


Shall I Compare?

by callmeflorence



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: 1916, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - World War I, Angst, Angst and Feels, Austrian food, Awkward Germany (Hetalia), Brothers Germany & Prussia (Hetalia), Brothers North Italy & South Italy (Hetalia), Culture Shock, Denial of Feelings, Emotional Baggage, Enemies, Eventual Romance, Falling In Love, Family Drama, Firsts, Flower Crowns, Fluff and Humor, Gardens & Gardening, Gay, Gay Sex, Historical Hetalia, Historical References, Italy, Love, Love at First Sight, Ludwig Beilschmidt is Bad at Feelings, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Minor Austria/Hungary (Hetalia), Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Poetry, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Summer, Trench Warfare, True Love, Unresolved Emotional Tension, War, World War I
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-03-17
Packaged: 2021-04-24 22:54:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 24,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22244332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callmeflorence/pseuds/callmeflorence
Summary: AU 1916 // World War I is raging. German Soldier, Ludwig Beilschmidt spends his days in the infamous trenches on the Italian Front. Beginning to become unfazed and detached by the war, he is offered a two-week leave to visit his family. Taking it, he travels to Austria-Hungary to stay with his cousin Roderich while trying to get past this 'Silence between Choas' without any problems; But when a certain Italian soldier comes to stay with them, Ludwig not only learns what love, comfort, and affection truly is, but is able to feel again in a way he can never forget.
Relationships: Austria/Hungary (Hetalia), Germany/North Italy (Hetalia)
Comments: 27
Kudos: 59





	1. A long ride home, a stranger and a beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?

For a very long time, Ludwig had given into the sounds of War.

Far away bombs, loud and cruel guns firing constantly, the groans of a solider fatally wounded, the ring of an explosion happening nearby. It all became background noise, like how silence is to sleep at night. 

One sound Ludwig was not familiar with was the sound of Good news. When He had received the letter of permission to go on leave from the front, Ludwig was a bit surprised. He’d asked before with zero expectation to receive it since others that had spoken about it didn’t get permission Either. People who had gone, the few that did, spoke that it did not feel right to be there. Like the mind learned to hate the sound of common society; buses, laughing, folk music and the smell of food. Once a soldier had gone to war, he could lose his life, but also his tolerance to anything on the outside

Ludwig understood completely.

The trip outside of the military lines felt like a blur. The further the sounds of guns and tanks were, the more uncomfortable with the silence Ludwig became. Time seemed to slow as he got off at the nearest army building for transportation with other ‘fortunate’ soldiers and was soon whisked away to Certain buses that had taken them to their hometowns and cities. 

“Sir, It says here that you are a German citizen, yes?” Ludwig peered at the man behind the booth, seeing the ticket master standing with his papers.  
“Yes, That is correct.” He looked down at his ports. 

“Then why have you filed for a residency in Austria-Hungary?” He asked, pointing to the place Ludwig had scribed on his transfer paper.

“My remaining family lives in the Austrian countryside. I was born in Germany but, in the motherland, I no longer have a residency.” He explained, huffing at the man impatiently. With one last review, the man handed his papers back and Ludwig shuffled out of the line.

“I no longer have a residency.” He mumbled to himself with a bit of spite. When the war began and Ludwig was drafted, he was the only person at his house in Munich. His older brother had been sent away as well a little before Ludwig and their grandfather was also part of the war effort. Nobody would be at home waiting for him, At least in Austria, there would be. Ludwig was keen to live with his cousin for the next two weeks than be alone. 

The bus had arrived early the next morning, Ludwig partially asleep on the bench outside of the large concrete transport house, other soldiers either standing, boarding or waiting for their bus to arrive. It was small and clunky, like a city bus. Ludwig was tired from the lack of sleep, so finding a seat first wasn’t on his list of important things to do. He was third to last on the bus, seeing about 15 other men sitting with a few of their small possessions in their military bags and suitcases. It was muggy inside the rectangular compartment.  
The German squeezed into a window spot, shut the shade and rested his forehead on the fabric. His mind wandered through paying attention to whatever was going around him and tuning into his thoughts. He listened to an announcement of the trip duration and the time, and the bus started to move slowly away from the plain train station. The sound of the bumpy road was a sound Ludwig took comfort in, not that he could sleep but Shutting his eyes proved an alternative that was good enough for a little relaxation. He focused on the feel of the cushion of his seat and the shuffle of the people on the bus when they got off in some town or village. The bus was traveling through Germany first, then Austria-Hungary. 

After a few hours on cobblestone and dirt roads through cities and villages, they finally entered Austria. Only a few of the original soldiers had been left on the bus, sitting anxiously for their arrival at their home. Ludwig sat stoically. Many things had cluttered in his head since he was let go from the front.  
He thought a lot of his brother. He thought of his house and his dogs. Thought about his stay at Rodrick’s home. He tried not to think of his time at the front. He tried. It was hard, after years of thinking only about living for the next day, it was hard to believe that for a brief time, he could imagine that the next day wouldn’t be a fight for survival.  
Tomorrow could be anything. Tomorrow was complete freedom from the physical fighting, but never the mental.

Ludwig did not believe he was sick in the mind, he didn’t have anything as bad as the other soldiers. The ones who could no longer sleep due to hearing bombshells in their minds and seeing the corpses of their friends. Ludwig didn’t have it like that. His was quiet and more subtle. It was just constant arranging of thoughts, the discomfort of a quiet moment, constantly on a spring for any quick and startling sounds. Although Ludwig had only survived because he accepted the silence along with the sound of screams and shells, it still haunted him to know it was all background noise to his focus; That in the end, it was all the same. The silence was only a buffer.  
He was starting to think this leave was a buffer. A moment of Silence before more anguish came.

The bus drove through Vienna, Ludwig pulling the curtain up to see the people on the streets. Women with frilly and sweet summer dresses, children playing on the sidewalks, Some men working and going from place to place, supporting their work for the war. As three of the seven soldiers came off the bus, people saw them and walked on by. No celebration or thanksgiving. Just normal life and the space that existed between them.  
Ludwig shut the curtain. 

Finally, after a few more hours traveling, passing mountains and rivers and small lakes, they entered the small village. The gingerbread looking houses made from wood, the cobblestone roads, the women walking around with young children, waiting for rations and some lines in shops and bakeries. It was overall a nice day, the sky a cloudless blue (unusual for Austrian weather) and summer in full spring. Ludwig had seen a rarity of Austria himself, other than visiting Vienna once or twice during his childhood. The Austrian countryside was, what Ludwig described, God’s handiwork. Beautiful sky-high mountains encompassing valleys, villages with family bakeries, long roads and walkways, ancient churches and beautiful town squares where the smell of bread and rain was always present. Ludwig could feel the echoes of his home here, the distant familiar feeling inside his heart.

The bus slowly came to a stop and the door opened. He slowly dawned his backpack and helmet, shuffling through the bus to exit through the front. He stepped off in a huff, peering around as the bus shut its door and disappeared down the road. This stop was very close to the village, merely walk down a small hill from a dirt and oak trees path and he would waltz right into town. His measly belongings wavered beside him and he began his trek down into the small village. 

Although the scene of Germanic architecture and the waft of rain had struck a chord with him of home, he was nevertheless unfazed by the surroundings. Although the thought of this only being a moment in time before another era of chaos; a second of silence in a storm, Ludwig tried to see the world around him. Women walked around and children ran place to place, workers bustled about and a fresh breeze wavered in Ludwig’s unkempt hair. It felt somewhat bland to him; flat and uncharacteristic. So what if this place had been like home, what did home mean to him now? Years into this war and he hadn’t been his house in Germany during that time, nor had bothered to travel to any place beyond a front other than a nearby village or town. What was home without his brother, with the laughter and brightness that came from the man, it only added to his discontent. His grandfather working within his part of the war, he was unreachable. 

Ludwig was left standing in the town square for what felt like ages, pondering all of this locked-in pity and depressing that when he lifted his head and looked around, he jumped a little of the distant eyes on him. About a few yards from him, amid the crowded square, staired back a man with the most beautiful hazel eyes he had ever witnessed. Wide, friendly and warm, Ludwig dared not move. The man, although too far and because of Ludwig's somewhat failing vision, was captivating. Ludwig's heart faltered and his thoughts of home vanished in an instant.  
But like a vision from God, the man was swept by the crowd and the beautiful eyes disappeared from Ludwig's line of sight. Ludwig blinked and his world began to move again. His heart sped back to its normalcy and he breathed deeply for the first time in what felt like hours. He looked from the particular crowd and looked down at his pocket. He tucked a single hand into it, pulling from the inside a creased piece of paper with the memorized address written on it and peered around again to see many familiar street names but to no avail. He stumbled over to a small café and asked for directions which were given politely by an older woman. Ludwig somewhat hurried to his cousins' house, feeling a bit shaken up and just wanting rest. He walked through a bit of a secluded road, the tracks of a car leading up into a beautiful home. In the front of the house laid a large flower garden, some vines traveling up the building. It was quite small but had an upstairs and large windows. He stumbled through the cobblestone walkway, the fresh bushels of flowers and fruits sprouting up at him. He approached the porch, knocking on the heavy oak door. He slowly removed his helmet and noticed his fingers and nails had splotches of dirt stuck on the skin.

The door opened and revealed a well-dressed man, taking off his white gloves as he looked back to Ludwig. His brown to black hair was pushed to the side as a curl stuck from the rest. His glasses had been pressed at the bridge of his nose and was left with no dirt or fingerprint on the lens. He looked Ludwig up and down.  
“Greetings, Ludwig.” Rodrick greeted him solemnly and stepped aside to let the man inside. “Please, remove your boots before you enter.”  
Ludwig felt a twinge of panic. As a soldier, he hadn’t changed his boots in weeks, none the less take them off in fear of infection or thief by someone else. Rodrick immediately sensed this panic and sighed. “Or keep them on. Just don’t track in the dirt- I just had these floors cleaned.” 

Ludwig obliged and looked around. The house was immaculate. Dark wood oak floors were varnished and polished and shined. A long, wide hallway leads down into a kitchen area where warm scents came from. Right nearby the entrance was a staircase, leading to the second floor. Ludwig looked as he wandered down the hall to a large doorway on his right, a large room with a fireplace, a small living room and a quaint table for guests. The next room next to it was a workshop of some kind, with fabrics lining a small work table, a weaver and sowing material laid nearby. As Ludwig turned, he saw the kitchen, circular with a round table with seats, a woman hummed as she focused on preparing the meal before her. Large, rectangular windows let the sun in as plants lined a nearby windowsill. Rodrick passed Ludwig and entered the kitchen, fixing his glasses.  
“Ludwig, this is my wife; Elizabeta.” He mentioned as the woman turned and with a large smile, nodded towards Ludwig. “Ah, Ludwig! I've heard much about you.” She wiped her hands from whatever dough she was making. 

Ludwig blinked and nodded back. “How do you do, Elizabeta?” He asked, looking at her. She was quite attractive; long, brown locks and green eyes, a small but strong feminine build, he was honestly a bit surprised this was the wife of his cousin, which he knew to be a bit of a snob. 

“Oh nevermind me, I'm sure you are aching for a rest. Come.” She offered him a seat along with Rodrick, served them some tea and a little treat of bread and jam. It was honestly the first time in some time Ludwig had gotten to eat bread that wasn’t weeks old and half-rotten. 

The jam smelled sweet and fresh and it took a full minute before he acted and took a bite. He tasted the bittersweetness of the paste, the fullness of the bread, the familiar tastes. Before he could promptly take another bite before he was even finished with his first, Rodrick spoke.

“When was the last time you had a proper meal?” He asked the slight clink of his china teacup on the saucer had brought Ludwig's attention.  
“I suppose.. months?” Ludwig settled his food down onto the plate when Elizabeta came over immediately, cooing at the man. “Well, tonight you’ll be full! No more crackers for you, at least while you are with us.” 

A slight smile appeared on Ludwig's face as he looked to Elizabeta. “Ah, thank you.”

She settled on the reaction and returned to her cooking. Rodrick quickly carried the conversation. “For most of your stay, I will probably leave you at your own devices. We often have more than enough food and if not- there are always rations. Although I do recommend to relax as much as you can, even though I know how hard-“ He sighed, “That maybe.” 

Ludwig merely nodded, following the particles of tea leaves in his drink. To tell the truth, that was what he wanted. He did not want to be bothered with much interaction, his mind felt too stunned to be able to comprehend the casual conversation; there was nothing to talk about. He had been taking care of himself for some time, and if it meant just trying to get past this moment of silence then that’s what he wanted to do. Take a rest before going back to defending his country.

“I figure that you would want to relax. We set up your room upstairs that has a private bathroom. There you can wash up before dinner.” He took a small bite of a danish, wiping his mouth. “It should be around Five tonight.” 

Ludwig nodded at the statement, shifting in his chair. It was a bit odd to be finally sit in a normal kitchen with regular people instead of sitting on a damp bunk with soldiers sitting around. He noticed the cleanliness of everything, the white table cloth, the shiny floors, the fresh plants. Just yesterday it seemed like he was being checked for trench foot.

“Yes, uh,” He looked back around. “That should be fine.” He started to stand, as seeing it was already noon and he was still dirty from his trip. Rodrick was quick to stop him, waving a hand. 

“Before you go to get ready, I should tell you that another person will be joining us.” He stood up slowly, matching Ludwig. “He is from the Italian Front. I had worked for his grandfather for some time when I was in my formative years and this is his grandson.” He pulled out a photo, a young boy with an older man, both with very curly and brown hair, a single curl defined clearly. A great big smile was on their faces as they posed in a small garden, lilies, and roses surrounding them. The boy's face was faintly familiar, and Ludwig’s soul twanged at the sight. This didn’t look like the enemy; a soldier willing to die and kill for his own life and his country. His curiosities burned, but Rodrick folded the faded photo back into his small wallet.

“His name is Feliciano, he is probably Nineteen now. He needed a place to stay for his own time off.” He handed Elizabeta his dishes, her humming happily filling the room. “It was hard since his brother is still on the front and his grandfather is.. in terrible condition. He's in a war hospital, and Feliciano couldn’t see him, according to letters.”

Ludwig's heart throbbed in empathy. He knew what that felt. The eldest of the Beilschmidt sons, Gilbert, had gone to war before Ludwig. His letters had stopped coming a few months ago and Ludwig had about-faced the worst. He knew the likelihood of survival for a solider, especially one as reckless and fearless like Gilbert.  
Ludwig was still suspicious though; the war had done that to him. He was Italian. They were at war and they needed to not be trusted. Ludwig felt the caution rising in him. Surely, the war had shaped them both into men ready for an attack at any moment, and he knew not this man's motivations. His eyes furrowed.

“’ Nough of that. I'm sure that he’ll be arriving by late tomorrow.” Rodrick continued to clean up the small dining table. “Your room is the second left upstairs. Towels have been set for you. If you need anything, there are bath soaps and shampoos in the bathroom next to your room. We figured you wanted some privacy rather than bathing in our main bathroom.” 

Ludwig shuffled, feeling uncomfortable in his clothes. “Ah, all right. Thank you.”

He left the kitchen, leaving the husband and wife to themselves. Traveling up the stairs, he found two guest rooms, an office, a music room, and the main bathroom. He inspected the rooms, peeking into each one slowly. Across the hall from his room was another guest room, parallel from each other. As he was told, Ludwig's room was next door to the bathroom.  
Ludwig's room looked very... quaint. A queen-sized bed with a white comforter and quilt, soft blue walls and white curtains for a large window that faced the front of the house. A small windowsill, a plain oak desk in the corner, a tableside. A small, dainty room. A sliding door on the wall leads to the private bathroom; A bath and an installed marble vanity. Towels sat on the rack and a mirror was hung. 

Ludwig finally realized how tired he was. Running the bath and undressing, he noticed how many scars he had, littering up and down his shoulder and chest. Sinking into the nice hot water left him completely relaxed for the first time in months. The warmth of the water made his muscles release from their tensions, and for a moment he was able to know he was okay, despite also remembering this was a moment silence and soon enough, he would be back in the cold, damp trenches. 

Ludwig stayed in the bath until the water turned cold. He got out in a sleepy daze, changing into more comfortable clothes that were given to him by Rodrick when he heard it.  
“Buongiorno!” A happy voice shouted downstairs, along with some laughs exchanged by what he assumed was Elizabeta and the man at the door. The door closed and pronounced footsteps faded away into the house. 

Ludwig did not want to face the facts. Standing alone in his room and hearing the echos of the Italian soldier downstairs, he was already exhausted from just thinking of being in his company. Although usually he would go and greet someone new to anything, this was different. Not only would he rather be alone to gather his thoughts and to have private time, but he also wanted to have the least amount of contact with the soldier. He had to stay away from them on the front lines, what was the difference here? He wouldn’t avoid the man, but he wouldn’t be racing to meet him.

Sitting on the bed, Ludwig quickly descended onto the bed on his back, the traveling and the bath finally getting to him. The bed was so soft and comfortable, Ludwig was surprised he could sleep. He slowly shut his eyes and allowed himself to at least take a quick nap. His dreams were silent; cold and distant. Not a dreamless sleep, but quiet darkness, like a night in a deep ditch. Sometimes, it would be so cold outside in the ditches that the sky would be so clear, the stars would pop out like holes in black cloth. Shining, soft and far. Ludwig never found comfort in the stars, the coldest and most distant beings, never providing warmth or even enough light to read or see. His breath was smoke in the brisk air and the coldness settled in his bones. He was alone and even the heavens gave him no resolution. 

Although he was breathing, he didn't feel alive. He could feel the heartbeat in his chest, but he figured it was just a hollow shell. He wasn't casually strolling down the sidewalk, admiring a fresh summer morning. He couldn't go to a cafe with someone he found attractive and sit with them just to see them. This wasn't living. It was only his spirit that was alive, the fighting one, the want of survival. He had to survive for his brother, for his grandfather, for his country. This may not be living, but surviving was the next best thing.


	2. Angels, Impressions and a Nervous Breakfast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shall I compare thee to a summers day?  
Thou art more lovely and more temperate;

Ludwig woke up to a dark room. He had been resting on his back, legs still off the bed. His back strained as he sat up and blinked, the only light that trickled in was from the window. Moonlight was soft and shined against the freshly polished floor. The air was cool from the summer night and a distant humming could be heard. It had looked like he had missed dinner, not that he felt particularly bad about that.

  
He settled back down, preparing to return the sleep he was just in. A golden light shone from under the doorway, and he could hear the tub drain from the main bathroom. The humming ensued and the person continued humming. It was a gentle melody, but frankly, the German was too tired to admire the vibrato in their voice. From the look of outside, it seemed late in the evening and everyone should have retired to sleep by now. The light continued to flicker from under the bedroom door.   
There were footsteps, humming, and soft singing. Things clinking and clacking, like a wood brush on a countertop. It was starting to irritate Ludwig. He had fallen sleep in gunfire, but if this was going to be a moment of silence, then goddamn it was going to be silent. 

  
Standing frustratedly out of the bed, he stretched quickly and went the door, trying to listen if it was only Elizabeta or Roderick. The voice was different from either and he knew Rodrick often went to sleep early, presumably with his wife. Slowly, he reached for the doorknob, twisting it and opening the door just slightly. Nobody was in the hallway, but both the guest bedroom and bathroom doors were open with candles lit in both rooms, making the area glow. A waft of what smelled like raspberries and sweets wafted through his nostrils. It was surreal, warm and inviting. 

That’s when he saw _him. _

A tan man, with a slim, soft body that looked like as if a Greek Goddess came back from the Ancient classics. Hair, dark brown, short with many curls laying wet and dripping onto his shoulders. Ludwig was suddenly enthralled. Was this the Italian man? Ludwig for a moment believed he was witnessing a vision from God. The fluffy towel laid wrapped around his sweet waistline, his back so smooth and slender, dark and small freckles laid here and there on the sunkissed skin. Curls seeped down his neck from the weight of water but Ludwig had zero doubt that they wouldn't bounce up once dry. The candlelight danced across his damp skin and gave off warmth and a secure feeling inside Ludwig. He was mesmerizing and he was fully entranced. 

But like most visits from angels, with a door shut, the man was gone, in his room across the hall. The hallway was now dark with only peeks of light from under the doorway. The humming was clear but soon stopped after a few moments after the light had been blown out. Ludwig blinked several times, wondering what had just happened and how long he had been standing there. 

Slowly and carefully, he shut his door. He could feel his heart thumping as if he had run a race, like as if he was flying. No thoughts came to mind, but one single image. This man, wet and partially nude, crossing the hall for mere seconds, but all of his beauty on display. The curls and skins, the hint of a smile on his face, the humming that was now a symphony to his ears. It took him several moments before he could stagger to his bedside and turning the gas-lamp on. 

_Ludwig had never shown interest in any man before._ Women were different, he was expected to enjoy the fruits of a woman's figure and mind. He should want to be attracted to women, and he thought he did. Admiring their soft faces and their eyes were what he thought was being attracted was. but this? This was complex. Ludwig wanted to deny the fascination. He did. Maybe it was because he simply looked like a woman from that angle. Maybe Ludwig was tired. 

Ludwig tried to return to sleep but he couldn't. The memory possessed his mind and soul, swirling inside of him. This was different anything he had ever known. He knew how to survive. He knew how to fight and fire a gun and lead people. He could charge into no man's land and live to tell the tale. He could be brave and intelligent in all trades.

but this one, He had no idea how to feel or treat this. He could barely think and he didn't want to think about what this meant. He didn't want to process it. All he wanted to do was go to sleep and ignore it all. Forget he ever saw anything. He closed his eyes and drove himself to succumb to any hint of sleep in him.

Soon enough, birds chirped, mothers woke their children and sunshine peeked over the horizon. He woke up by a knock on his door, radiating through the house. It was rather loud and he could tell that it was the certain Austrian waking him up for soon to be breakfast. His sleep was, well, shit. Tossing and turning all night left him groggy and annoyed. He little sleep he managed was obscure and provided no aide to his problem.

Getting up, he traveled from his bedside to the private bathroom. Splashing his face with water, he prepared for a bath. Today, he was particular about everything. When he bathed, he made sure that he had scrubbed himself with the fresh soap over and over again. He shaved the light stubble that he had grown over the night and brushed his hair in what used to be his typical slicked-back look. He took out the freshly ironed clothes, a white buttoned-up shirt with black slacks. The dress shoes given to him by Rodrick were a tad too tight and felt unnatural after months of only wearing combat boots. It was only after he was ready to go downstairs where he heard laughing and talking that he realized he was trying to impress the man.

With a deep pit of nervousness in his stomach and a sigh, he descended from his room and down the stairs. His shiny dress shoes clicked handsomely against the hardwood floor. As he turned the corner to face the hall leading to the kitchen, he saw the familiar curly hair, now light brown and bouncing against his scalp. He approached the kitchen, his spirit beating against his ribcage, his eyes never leaving the Italian man whose face was faced from him. He laughed with Elizabeta, leaning on his forearms against the table as Roderich drank his morning coffee quietly. 

"Ah Ludwig, you've arrived." 

With those words, the Italian Man turned his head from the conversation with the wife and Ludwig finally saw him. The first thing he saw was great emerald and rust-colored eyes. They were instantly intimate to the ones he saw in the village square, staring back with the same amount of curiosity and wonder as they did before. His hair was frizzy, unbrushed and laid sloppily on his head, A slightly larger curl stood out from the side. A relaxed and slightly unbuttoned shirt relaxed on his skin, his neck and collar slightly revealed. The man quickly stood up, a great big smile graced his cheeks.

"Hello, my name is Feliciano Vargas, but you can call me Feli." He took his hand with much rigor, and Ludwig barely perceived anything. His palm was soft and inviting, and it tingled up into Ludwig's arm. Ludwig stuttered.

"H.. Hello. I'm Ludwig Belischmidt. I'm Roderich's cousin." He released his hand slowly, still looking at Feliciano's face, one that's eyes were instantly recognizable. 

"Ah yes! I am familiar, Rodrick told me last night at dinner." He sat back down and Ludwig went around the table to sit in the empty chair. Warm summer sunlight fell lightly on the table, revealing small pastries and breakfast foods. 

Before Ludwig could talk, Feliciano was going a mile a minute. "Oh! Elizabeta was kind enough to teach me how to make some Austrian pastries last night, although I'm not very good at saying their names. I wanted to give something back to everyone for letting me stay here while my family was gone, Austria is very beautiful."

Ludwig wondered about how Feliciano was such in high spirits. He talked with such humor and moved as if he was an actor on stage. His hair bounced every time he moved and his cheeks glowed. 

"You are a German soldier, are you not? I'm sorry for intruding, but your helmet looked very German." He waited for a response, but Ludwig was a little stunted by studying Feliciano's face.

"Oh, ah... Yes. I am a German Soldier." Ludwig hadn't expected such open conversation.

"Ludwig also doesn't have a family at home at the moment, so I offered him to stay here." Roderich adjusted in his seat. "Speaking off which, what day are you leaving?"

"The 20th." He responded lowly. "About 11 days from now." 

Felicano nodded in understanding. "I leave in about 12. I was practically begging for them the give me a few more days to spend here, but because I said was staying in Austria, there wasn't much the could do." He shrugged. "I guess that's enough time." 

Elizabeta chuckled, wiping her mouth, "I wouldn't be surprised if you didn't go out exploring today. You have so much energy!"

Feliciano laughed heartily, which made Ludwig's stomach turn oddly. "That's only because your beds are so comfortable! I don't remember the last time I got to sleep in, bunks are always so stiff." He took a bite out of a raspberry danish, licking the jam off his lips. Ludwig tried not to watch every single movement, but every smile and glance would catch his eye. 

"I reckon Ludwig is not much of an explorer," Rodrick admitted to Italian and Ludwig peered back at him. 

"Ah, that's quite alright." He shrugged, sitting back a little. "I would like to be able to buy some paint while I'm here, I would love to paint your garden, Elizabeta." He pretended to hold a paintbrush, painting midair. It was sweet and humorous, even Ludwig gave a small smile. 

"Maybe, you would like to join me?" Feliciano's words seized Ludwig's attention and realized he was the one being asked to accompany him. Feliciano's eyes glistened with light, and his bronzed skin looked rosy on his cheeks. A moment of hesitation arose, along with the skeptical nature of a solider. This man could be anyone or anything, maybe lead him to his end. Could he afford to spend time with an Italian? did he even care to do so? But Feliciano had shown no side of malintent. All he was-was a man. He was outside the lines. Feliciano was just a family friend and Ludwig couldn't fight the temptation, especially with the charming of this man on his nerves, blocking out any superstition.

"I wouldn't mind going to some shops myself." Ludwig reasoned with himself out loud, "I do need a new journal."

"Alright then, we can go soon." Feliciano nodded, swallowing the rest of his danish. He looked goofy with crumbs on his lips, some curls brushing into his face.

Ludwig picked up a small cookie, tasting its flavor. When he remembered that Feliciano made them, he looked up and upturned a side of his mouth back at Feliciano. Feliciano pushed back his locks and showed his soft simper.

They didn't know it yet, but this was the start of a brilliant and everlasting relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaa! hello there! just a quick note, sorry this is a little delyed. Im really happy to see you guys enjoying this story as much as I do. Thank you all so much for reading and I hope to continue this story for a long time!
> 
> ah, ludwig. Our star seems to be having some trouble with his feelings now. Not as he expected his trip to go, but hes on a rollercoaster and we are the conductors of the ride. I wonder how hes gonna feel at the end of the day..
> 
> Again, thank you all so much for your support, it means the world.  
Tschuss!   
-Americaii/


	3. A Sunny day, a Walk and a Painting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?  
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:  
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,  
And summer’s lease hath all too short a date;"

The day was long and warm, a sunny day that many took advantage of. Austria was often very rainy, something to be expected when you live in a valley. Ludwig was somewhat happy to see the sun. It gleamed softly onto his skin and warmed him from the outside in. But still, there was an unfamiliar rattle in his bones, one that he had never felt, not even on battlefields and trenches.

He was going to be spending time with Feliciano.

Of course, he knew that statement wasn't large or surprising or any kind of news. But he knew that even the short amount of time around him made him weary and nervous. He pretended that it was because his nerves were shot and it was very unnatural to be around an enemy. He only pushed it aside and focused on the summer air. 

Speaking of Feliciano, he was waiting for him on the patio in the backyard. It was a garden mostly like the front, a small path leading towards a shed and one to a gate that followed a shortcut back into town. It followed what looked like a path similar to what Ludwig had been on when he first arrived. A gravel path lined with trees, bike marks from people riding up and down it in the dirt.

Ludwig was lost in thought when he had heard a great _**thump!**_ Vibrate from the house. Alarmed, he turned to go inside but was greeted by Feliciano, out of breath and hair sticking up in a place.

"I fell down the stairs, but it's alright!" He laughed at the silliness and Ludwig immediately went for inspection. He looked around Feliciano, not laying a hand on him, but seeing for any bruises and blood. Nothing was found and Feliciano was eyeing him playfully.

"Ah, Mr. Doctor." He teased, brushing back his unruly curls. "Have I gotten severely injured? How much time until I pass?" He said dramatically, pushing a hand to his forehead as to shield himself from any terrible news, a grin on his face.

Ludwig was quite amused, sticking out a finger to lift the dramatic hand from the Italians forehead. "You'll be just fine."

Feliciano drops his scene, walking past Ludwig to stand on the porch. "Oh!" He looked around at the scenery; The garden with greens and yellows, the rare sunlight on the path, mountains in the distance and pools of white in the sky. Ludwig approached the railing as well, looking at it too. 

"Oh, I have to get the paints now! even if I can't keep the painting, I can still have it shipped in the mail when I go back to Italia. I don't want to forget this!" He peered around still, astonished.

Ludwig hummed. "It is enchanting, yes." 

Feliciano had walked down the steps, going further down the path to the gravel road beyond the gate. He looked back at Ludwig, who stood idly on the porch, still looking at everything.

"Ludwig! You coming?" He asked, grabbing his attention. Ludwig blinked and nodded, making his way down the stairs. He dint recall the last time he liked the sound of his name before; perhaps it wasn't the name, but the voice the spoke it.

After they had shut the gate and composed themselves, they began to walk down the long stretch of road. Patches of sunlight would stream through the trees and hit their faces, the crunch of gravel beneath their shiny (and burrowed) black shoes. Feliciano talked about a lot of things, Painting, plants, food. Feliciano spoke without any rhythm. He spoke fast, even for English standards, and Ludwig eventually became lost in the sound of his accent. Smooth and full to the brim. 

"So who taught you?" He has asked and Ludwig was forced from his state and stuttered.

"O... Oh sorry. What was the question?"

Feliciano modestly swayed a little, his arms dangling at his sides, one hand in his pocket. "I said, who taught you English?"

"My Grandfather." Ludwig stated, "He had lived in England for some time, figured it would be a good idea to teach me and my brother. But he still enjoyed German more."

Feliciano hummed to himself. "German sounds so stiff! It sounds strong and heavy. When I started learning English from my Grandpa, I thought it was stiff too."

Ludwig rolled his eyes. "So your grandfather taught you too?" He asked, feeling the weight in his chest become lighter, picturing the man from the photo Roderich showed him.

"Si, he was quite good at it. He always said the more languages you speak, the more girls you can have fun with." Feliciano's face illumed with glee, practically showing his adoration for his grandfather.

"Sounds like a wild man." Ludwig amusingly said, looking up at the break in the trees above them. 

"Ah, but he had a good sense of humor though." The Italian hummed almost wistfully like a mourner would joke after a passing. But before Ludwig could fully look at him, Feliciano changed the subject.

"So, Ludwig, I don't reckon you paint?" He asked, looking up at the blonde. Ludwig shrugged.

"I wasn't creatively inclined when I was younger. I much preferred poetry instead." 

Feliciano crooned, oohing at the idea. "I could see you writing poetry. I bet you're very good since you talk like a newspaper~" He teased. 

"Hey!" Ludwig defended, "I just happen to speak like my grandfather, he sounds archaic and old-fashioned." 

Feliciano made a dramatic angry face, "So serious~"

Ludwig chuckled a little, looking away. "I needed a new journal anyways. My old one was covered in mud and it got ruined. I won't be as careless this time." 

Feliciano stretched. "My ideas end up getting jumbled up and I don't know what I'm talking about, so I much rather sketch, at least on a battlefield."

Ludwig looked at the man. Feliciano seemed like the soldier who started as a happy-go-lucky recruit but hated it after 3 months, like most. He hadn't spoken of the war yet, and Ludwig didn't want to tempt anything-

"Do you like being in the trenches, Ludwig?" 

Nevermind, Ludwig supposed. 

"Who does?" He sighed, rubbing his neck. 

"Yeah, that's what I thought too. Although it is not so bad. Some of the people around me are nice. My one friend can draw landscapes well and another likes singing. Some people don't like it but we do, and it brings some joy to us."

Ludwig had seen soldiers like that. Happy, always making jokes and starting games, singing and laughing. Not many, but there was always one who tried their best to lift spirits. He didn't acknowledge those people, always moving onto the next task and the next meal and whatever it may be. 

"Tell you the truth--" Feliciano continued, "When I first found out I was getting drafted, I hated it. I never wanted to leave Venice, but my brother had gone so I had to too. Once I got in, it wasn't so bad. Although I do get nightmares about guns and bombs now, I don't think I'm crazy. Do you think I'm crazy, Ludwig?" 

Feliciano was so honest and Ludwig had not expected it. Sure Feliciano was energetic and content, Ludwig had been perplexed about how much he was being told. 

"Nein..? Soldiers don't walk out the same, just a fact we have to accept. But I don't think your crazy, at least not in that sense." Ludwig replied.

Feliciano smiled widely, "Thanks."

The row of trees was coming to an end after many lefts turn while on the path. The gravel turned to dirt to cobblestone and they were soon going down a side street. They didn't speak for a little while, something Ludwig had felt vaguely uncomfortable about since he had already gotten used to Feliciano's conversation-making. It was a comfortable silence filled with outside public sounds and birds. The square was considerably busy, mostly women and children shopping around. Feliciano had winked to a group of Austrian school girls and they giggled and smiled. 

After walking for some time, they had finally found a small bookstore. There was a bookcase in the window and small boxes with brand new paper and fancy fountain pens. A particular navy blue book caught Ludwig's eye and they stepped into the store.

Ludwig had always been clear on what he needed. He didn't allow himself to wander around, he liked something and he bought it. But Feliciano had taken the opportunity to roam, peeking around every bookcase, every shelf, and backroom, picking up many titles he saw and running to look at something that caught his eye. Ludwig was left to follow him around, smelling the familiar old book smell. The place was largely void of people, but that didn't bother Ludwig much. Feliciano didn't look bothered either.

Eventually, Ludwig has checked out and had bought the book. It was soft, almost like leather in his hand. It was nice and weighty and it smelled like old paper. It was only a few Kronen, a little saved from Roderich to Ludwig. Not much but still money.

The day went on and Feliciano finally found a small craft shop for fabrics and paints. He grinned excitedly, opening the door for them. 

The first thing he inhaled was the strong varnish that radiated through the shop. Women looked at needles and fabric, some pencils and paints. Many talked, some children walked around with small toys and dolls, ones made by hand in the shop. Feliciano had played with the children a little and moved out of their way so they could run and dance.

Ludwig quickly got a headache from the smell and he walked behind Feliciano, who looked for the hand made paints. A giant shelf contained variates of colors, deep blues and yellows, warm and fiery reds and some dainty purples. Canvas laid nearby, pre-stretched on wooden frames, white and textured. Feliciano's fingertips danced over tubes of paint, picking all sorts of hues and colors from the shelf. Ludwig looked on with curiosity. 

"When did you start painting?" 

Feliciano, with an everlasting grin, hummed. "Young. Probably while I was just a little kid, my brother Lovino didn't enjoy it as much as I did, and grandpa Roma showed me a lot." He started to move away from the shelf, with some small canvases and tubes of yellow, red and blue. 

"I would paint and draw a lot of animals, fields, even my room back in Venice. I just fell in love with the paintbrush and haven't been able to put it down since." 

As they approached the counter, Feliciano reached for his pocket with his bills and started to fetch the money out. Ludwig didn't know why he did, but before he could think, he had stuck out his hand with the Kronens and paid for everything. It was awfully expensive, but Ludwig had felt a twinge of the same heavy feeling in his chest when he had turned to see Feliciano surprised and sweet eyes back at him. He looked away but it was already too late.

The canvas and paints were wrapped, Ludwig carried the heavier stuff while Feliciano started the bundle of paints. 

"You didn't have to do that, you know," Feliciano uttered. His voice was laced with gratefulness. 

Ludwig thought for a moment before speaking, "I don't think I mind funding gifted minds making brilliant works."

Feliciano hanged his head and hid a small smile, flushing at the compliment. 

Ludwig looked away too, the same flush on his cheeks.

\--

Their trip home was filled with conversation and comfortable silence. They continued to talk about painting, and Ludwig had a lot to learn.

"What do you mean you've never painted before!?" 

"I've never painted with actual paints. When I was little we had like small jars, but my brother used them to paint his face when he played with me." Ludwig sighed.

Feliciano looked at him mischievously, smirking with his eyebrow raised.

"I'm not painting, Feliciano."

"Ah! Why not~?" 

"I can't paint!" Ludwig chuckled, shrugging. "You're the artist, you shouldn't waste your canvas."

"It's not being wasteful if you put something on it!" Feliciano bumped his shoulder into Ludwigs, radiating warmth from one body to the next from the breeze.

They approached the gate, Feliciano hopping over it and scouted out for a place to set up at. Ludwig opened the gate, walking over to the shady and grassy area Feliciano had settled in. You could tell there was some cobblestone, perhaps a platform or stairs, but it had since been overrun by grass and provided a stable place to put a stand.

Ludwig uncovered the canvas, helping Feliciano to put it on the artist stand. Feliciano took out paints and took the baby blue and opened it, smearing some paint on the wooden stand.

"I could have gotten you a palette if you needed one," Ludwig commented monotonously. 

"Artists tend to be a bit messy, its only oil paint." Feliciano quickly took out what looked like old brushes that he had in the bag, years of wear on their stem. "I still wish you would paint."

Ludwig crouched a little on the cobblestone platform, inspecting the grass coming through the cracks. "I already told you, I can't paint."

"At least make a sky for me. You can put color on a canvas, can't you?" Feliciano poked Ludwig's shoulder with the end of a brush.

Ludwig sighed in defeat. "If it gets you to stop complaining, then okay."

Feliciano clapped his hand, standing up and allowing Ludwig to sit down. Ludwig felt serene, and it almost felt surreal to be doing this. He looked at the soft pastel blue and raised an eyebrow. 

"You just.." He pointed around the canvas, "Want me to paint it all blue?"

"Just for the time being, then we can add the greens and yellows." Feliciano leaned over.

Ludwig only nodded, picking up some blue paint and making the first drabble on the canvas. The color was hard to move and it was thick. Ludwig continued but would sputter in his movements when he found Feliciano was near to him and was watching him. It made the weight in his chest heavier. The Italian continued to point missed spots. 

"I think I want you to do this painting, Ludwig." He confessed. Ludwig looked up to him with a blank stare. 

"You just.." He smiled. "Are doing well. I think it's about time you did something like this. _ Gifted minds make Brilliant work _, so this shouldn't be too hard for you." 

The heaviness in Ludwig's chest got even bigger and the bowstring was pulled tight.

Finally, the canvas blended into the sky and was perfect. Of course, oil paint took a lot of time to dry, even if it did within the same day, they would still be late to lunch if they waited forever.

Feliciano loved food; that was apparent. Ludwig watched him swallow cookies and biscuits, sandwiches and fruit. There was no sign of Roderich or Elizabeta, just quiet music somewhere from inside the house and an empty kitchen. Standing on the patio that was covered in sunlight, they both watched the paint slowly dry and ate some biscuits and apples. It was peaceful, and although suspicions ran high that morning, Ludwig felt.. sound. Good. Every time he would look at Feliciano, his attraction would try to peak itself in, but Ludwig quickly shut it out and away. He had already indulged enough today. 

Feliciano yawned, stretching his arms to the sky. "I'm getting tired, I wonder if I should go inside or stay out here." 

"For what?" Ludwig turned, finishing a swallow of bread.

"A fiesta!" Feliciano yawned again, looking around. A love seat sat near the garden under a tree quietly, a place to sit for those who looked onto the garden with beauty. 

"What's that? Like a nap?" 

"Close! Most of it is sleeping, but snacking or taking a break from big tiring problems, I loved having them during the summer at home." Feliciano walked off the patio, following the path. When he noticed Ludwig wasn't following, he looked back confused. 

"Arent you coming?" He asked.

"Uh, no... I'm not that tired right now. I think I have to sort my room." It was a lame excuse, but Ludwig didn't know how to feel with going with him. He was feeling fuzzy and fine, and Ludwig felt odd. 

Feliciano simply shrugged, turning back to the future napping spot. "Alright then, see you at dinner?" He asked.

"Ja." Ludwig turned back and went inside without another word. it was like he was out of breath.

To tell the truth, Ludwig wasn't tired whatsoever. Although the comfort of a bed held him close, he did not fall in an embrace of sleep. 

He was wide awake, and inside himself was laid with memories of the day; waking up and feeling terrible. Feliciano's curly hair that he always brushed from his eyes, the sun shining through the kitchen window, the garden in the morning, Feliciano's tumble down a flight of stairs, their walk to the stores and the flushed red against tan cheeks, the painting, the everything. For once, Ludwig didn't shed a thought about the predicament of war, as if it had been all locked out of _their_ little bubble.

_his_ bubble, he meant. 

Eventually, he had gotten bored with the blue walls of his room and decided to back down the stairs to check the painting. The sun was now at a golden ray, shining its last for one more glorious moment. It covered everything in a sweet honey ray of sun, including everything in the garden.. and Feliciano's face.

Ludwig wondered if this was weird. Although he wasn't studying him up close, he could see the way the sun-brushed against his skin at the angle, his cheeks and eyes, his eyebrows released and still, his hands safely under him. Ludwig couldn't comprehend the beauty, the angelic features that were somehow delicate and mature at the same time, or why his slender fingers laid comfortably under his cheek or how his curls laid against his forehead carelessly. Ludwig's heart flutter and the growing heaviness in his chest tugged on his feelings, ones he didn't want to acknowledge.

this wasn't real, and Ludwig wasn't looking at an Italian soldier like this. He denied it and denied it, but the pressure locked in his soul was there and the recollections replayed themselves over and over again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! This chapter is longer than I thought! Thanks so much for reading it, makes everything feel worth it. Thanks for the comments!
> 
> Ah Ludwig, denial will get you no where.. so wont flattery. 
> 
> Anyways, I hope you guys are fantastic and are doing well! Yall are the best.  
Yours,  
-Amercaii


	4. Big Brothers, Poems and Tomorrows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?  
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:  
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,  
And summer’s lease hath all too short a date;  
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,  
And often is his gold complexion dimm'd;"

The night continued. They had dinner and put the painting away for the next day. Although Ludwig didn't go very far, he was tired. He had eleven days left here and he was going to try and get past it.

But something inside of him disagreed. Did he want this to be over? Did he want to leave already? for what reason? In him, he couldn't find real a real reason to go.

but he did find a reason to stay.

He shook his head and continued to wash himself up. The bath was warm against him and a window was open. Ludwig could hear the oncoming rain nearby pitter and patter. 

Feliciano and Elizabeta were in the craft room, doing something on the means of stitching. Roderich was contently playing music. Dinner had ended about an hour ago and Ludwig was looking forward to ending this day early. 

He thought about how things were going on the front. He wondered about his generals and other soldiers, how the recruits were doing, but he mostly thought about Gilbert.

He wanted to sink away when thinking about his brother. He didn't want to face that anxiety. The extreme worry. He would die from the unknown of Gilbert's whereabouts.

He had gotten no notice. no letters, no post, no mail. Nothing from Gilbert in months. The last letter was as cheerful as Gilbert had been in all his letters. They were often short but detailed and precise. He never showed any kind of sadness or injury.

Gilbert was the big brother; The way-maker. The tough-guy. The super-hero.

Part of Ludwig wanted to hold on to the idea of Gilbert being a superman, the happiest man he'd ever known and that nothing could beat him. That Gilbert would just be there as he had always been and he would come back at least with a smile on his face after this was all over.

Part of him knew it was a lie.

Ludwig splashed his face, the tear that was rolling down his face mixed with the foamy water, gone forever. Ludwig locked away the unresolved resolutions back deep into his heart and got out of the now lukewarm soak. The sun had set and the rain pittered on the bathroom window. It was cold.

He dried himself up, dressing into sleepwear and preparing for rest. There was a busy part of his mind, and he didn't know what to do about it. It wasn't often he felt this unsettledness, but he only pushed it away, only tried to forget.

He contended it away and laid down, uncomfortable and alone. He could feel the tremor build in his heart and his stomach turned. 

Away. That's all he could do. He could push it away endlessly. tirelessly. if he continued to hold it and think, he would die.

Sleep was the only answer. 

\--

He didn't wake up until late. The sun was flying high into the sky when he woke up and the afternoon was springing up after the rainfall the nightfall. A small bowl of oatmeal and tea was on a nightstand nearby. He stared at the white cream color of the bowl and found no motivation to get up. The sleep still radiated in his body and he did not move to get up. He shifted his eyes to a soft blue canvas that was propped up against the windowsill. It with paintbrushes and paint were there neatly placed with a small note attached; Ludwig had suddenly found the motivation he wasn't particularly looking for but what he received anyways.

Snaking out of bed, he approached the Canvas with the slightly awake body. Unfolding the note read,

_ Luddy, _

_ I am going out with Roderich for a little while. While I'm gone, I hope you can start making some clouds. I'm sure you know what a cloud looks like, you seem pretty clever to me. When I come back, we can start to add other things. _

_ I hope you feel better. _

_ Yours, _

_ Feli~ _

Okay. First. ** _ Luddy. _ ** _ That was new. _

Ludwig shook his head. He looked back down at the canvas. A small palette, the paints, and brushes were sitting contently on the floor. Ludwig bit his inner cheek and opened a window. He sat on the wood floor, inspecting the materials. Many of the paintbrushes had been worn down, the paint and gloss on them chipped away to reveal wood and dents. A fading signature laid on all of them;  ** _ Romulus _ ** . Ludwig understood it as the company, knowing Roman myth, he left it at that.

Next was the paint and the platter. It was a strong scent and Ludwig was only sparing himself when opening the window. He opened the tube and squeezed out the white and blue paint, the palette stained with older color. 

Where to start? He knew what clouds were, that was obvious. But recreating the heavens were different. Feliciano could probably do it much better than he. Of course, he could. He had been doing this for his entire life; Ludwig hadn't. 

The first drab of white on the canvas was made with distress. He swirled a bit, making a shadowy blue on the painting. He rolled the paintbrush with stiff movements. He couldn't mess up Felicianos painting. He couldn't. He would rather watch from afar like he always did. He listened to bombs fly away from afar, hearing them crash and burn and a scream, so why he couldn't do the same for his eyes? His stomach churned with the same anxiousness from the night before and only soured his mood further. A cloud formed onto the painting, but no matter how he had done it, it wasn't sufficient. And he was gripping his hair at its roots about it. 

After about an hour of just forcing himself to paint, his silent loathing was interrupted by a subtle knock at his door. Ludwig sighed with frustration. 

"Ludwig?" A voice asked glee layered onto it. The door creaked open and there peered the Italian, a small smile on his face. He held nothing in his hands and was adorned comfortably, his dress shoes slightly wet and his pants rolled up a bit, probably to prevent getting wet from last night's rain. He could see the excitement in the gleam of his eyes and it made Ludwig feel like he was sinking, knowing he probably ruined Feliciano's painting. Feliciano's smile faded as it scanned Ludwig's guilty face. "Are you alright, friend?" 

Ludwig merely stepped from the sight of the painting, allowing Feliciano to see it. Feliciano only stepped forward and sighed through his nose, shaking his head. His smile was still there and he didn't show any annoyance, but he could tell something was on his mind. He came close to Ludwig, and his hand snaked to his shoulder. The Germans spine prickled in _ wunder  _ and his hair stood up on his back. 

"Its alright, Ludwig. It's only a Canvas. Plus, if you don't like it, we can paint over it. But honestly," He peered back at the composition "It's not that bad. You did a pretty good job. It's okay to feel overwhelmed, I guess it was a lot to ask of you since your just starting." Feliciano stepped towards the canvas and bent down to pick it up. 

"We should let it dry, or the paint will just pile on each other. I wouldn't want to make a mess of our painting." He gleamed. "Now, let's go downstairs, we bought some bread for sandwiches!"

Ludwig blinked. "Oh, yeah. Ill is down in a few minutes." 

Feliciano hummed, as he walked past putting a hand on his chest as to comfort him and walked from the room. The door was shut and Ludwig waited for the final sounds of shoes clicking away to finally breathe out. He blinked, feeling the skin on his chest, even under his shirt was burning. The way he was spoken to with such kindness, the honey voice replying in his memory over and over again.

"No." Ludwig shook his head. "I'm probably just warm. Sensitive to touch." He reasoned, covering his mouth. The reasons didn't fit through. It didn't explain the warmth he could feel deep inside of him when Feliciano looked at him with the caring eyes and touched his skin, or smiled even when Ludwig felt so lost. Ludwig shook the feeling away, no matter how good it felt to have it. That was dangerous; to feel. This was temporary. Like everything else.

It took him a few moments before he shook away the feeling, breathed a deep breath and walked from the room. Walking downstairs, he heard Elizabeta's laugh, Feliciano's not far behind. He wandered into the kitchen, still looking as if he just woke up. He brushed back his hair with his hand, the golden locks being forced away. He saw the backs of both of them, giggling and laughing at the kitchen counter. They had to be talking about something in an Italian dialect because Ludwig didn't understand what they were talking about. 

"Oh, Ludwig!" Elizabeta smiled, holding a small knife. "About time you got out of bed. We are making lunch. Feliciano was just telling me about your painting skills." 

Ludwig flushed a little, rubbing his neck. "Yeah, 'skills." He sighed. 

Feliciano rolled his eyes playfully. "Hey! I wasn't born with a painting talent!" He chuckled, placing a sandwich and some meat on a plate, setting it aside to make another plate. Ludwig bit back an unconscious flirt and held his tongue. 

Ludwig approached Elizabeta, offering help but she smacked his hand away. 

"Listen, I'm a grown woman, sit down. I got you." He didn't need a further application, sitting down at the familiar kitchen table. Feliciano glanced back at him and only smiled to himself. 

"Plus," The Italian said, "You're much more experienced at poetry, right?" 

Ludwig contorted his face, "Define 'skilled."

"You're good at it." Feliciano walked over, handing him a plate. A sandwich with a hearty sausage in the middle, it looked absolutely delicious. 

"I suppose, easier to grasp than a painting I suppose." He took a bite.

Elizabeta sat down, her eyebrow raised. "Paintings are worth a thousand words, but words and sentences are often very blunt." 

"But that's what I enjoy about Painting; The freedom." Feliciano finished up with making his lunch, moving from the counter to also sit. "I don't have to follow rules or have to fit into someone's head, I can decide for myself what it means to me."

Ludwig pondered that for a moment. He reckoned he was right, but he never liked endless answers. He wanted the straight truth of something. Words can be abstract but not as much as paintings. He hummed. It was all complex. A lot to handle for someone that fried their mind while trying to paint a cloud for an hour straight. 

Ludwig shrugged and swallowed a bite. "I only wrote because I figured it was healthy to write. I don't know, some soldiers also wrote and they were actually good at it. I figured it wasn't a bad option." 

Feliciano nodded, covering his mouth as he talked. "I just couldn't get my mind out on the page. Poems were nice to read, but the paintbrush always caught my eye."

They continued to eat in silence for a few minutes, enjoying a comfortable quiet as they ate their lunches. After they finished, they cleared the table, Ludwig offering his hand at dishes. Feliciano sat on a counter nearby, frankly bored.

"Can I read a poem?" 

Ludwig kind of froze. He knew that question was going to eventually be brought up again, and he kind of hated himself to bring it up in the first place. 

"They aren't that fun to read," He scrubbed a plate clean, "I don't think a frown suits you." 

"Then I guess you wouldn't like my face very much if you saw me at the front." 

Ludwig turned and glared at the man, feeling a sense of empathy for him. Even for a short amount of time, he would probably hate to see such a frown on a face like his. His rosy cheeks weren't built for melancholy or apathy. 

"C'mon Luddy, we're friends now right?" He hopped off the counter, taking a cloth and standing next to Ludwig, drying off glasses and plates. "You don't have to if you don't want too." 

Ludwig bit his lip and looked at the cup, seeing it overflow with water while he gripped it. He couldn't believe that he was going to say something like this. "No, I suppose I should give something in return, you did let me in on your painting."

" _ Our _ painting."

"Okay,  _ our _ painting." Ludwig passed a cup to Feliciano to dry. "You can read one. I'll write one after this since my older journal is ruined, you can read my first entry when I write it." 

Feliciano returned to a bleaming glee, his cheeks glowing with excitement. "Alright!" 

Soon, the dishes were finished and Feliciano had gone off outside to check the painting. Ludwig, as promised, took his new journal and pens and returned downstairs. Feliciano was lounging on the loveseat, the one he was sleeping on yesterday, relaxing in the shade. It was a generally nice day, some clouds passing through but the sun mainly out. It was warm outside but a cool breeze filtered through the valley. 

Ludwig walked over to the loveseat, settling down on the opposite end of the bench. He opened the book and wrote his name, location, and information. Feliciano buzzed in interest. Ludwig was barely even writing when Feliciano was peering onto the page. 

"No looking." Ludwig moved the journal away and Feliciano pouted. "No fair~"

Ludwig shook his head. "Why don't you take a nap? What is it called again?" 

"A siesta?" 

"Yeah, do that. You did just eat, probably a good time to get some rest." He suggested. The Italian nodded, getting comfortable. He didn't need any convincing to go to sleep. He played the same way as he did the day before, facing out, curled up with his arms supporting his head from the wooden bench. Within a few moments, he had fallen asleep. Ludwig was alone. 

He stayed on the bench though. He looked back to the first unmarked page. For some time, he could not find a thing to write about. He wondered about everything around him. Although his mind found no thesis, his hand began to write and followed his thoughts. They swirled onto the page, slowly turning into something. 

** _ "From soldier to soldier _ **

** _ from dust to dust _ **

** _ his ashes to mine  _ **

** _ their lives to ours _ **

** _ I am stuck, _ **

** _ across a mental battlefield _ **

** _ where silence was the gunfire _ **

** _ and the bombs were unrealized reality _ **

** _ I saw him in the moonshine _ **

** _ the glorious sight _ **

** _ because in that instant _ **

** _ I found no reason to kill, _ **

** _ no reason to fight.  _ **

** _ He was the springing reality, _ **

** _ the loud to my affected silence _ **

** _ the pulse in my veins _ **

** _ and the-" _ **

Ludwig blinked from his sudden passion for what he was doing and immediately stopped. He knew his pen wanted to write more, the subconscious, the part of him that wanted to stare at Feliciano and to feel his touch. He didn't remember when he started that desire. But he knew if he kept writing, it would be accepting that desire; that couldn't happen. He only had a few more days, a week and a half. He needed to do this. Or hed is lost in a world he wasn't familiar with. 

He ripped the page out, stuffed it into a slot in the back of the notebook and started again. 

** _ "A coldness surrounded us _ **

** _ in those stuck there _ **

** _ a dark damp down under, _ **

** _ that we knew so well. _ **

** _ Each somber turn _ **

** _ puddles of shell shock  _ **

** _ that carried death and dementia _ **

** _ we sat and heard and sat and fired and sat and ate. _ **

** _ we did nothing but sit and kill _ **

** _ and wait for a resolution, _ **

** _ for the bullets we fired or the enemy we shot _ **

** _ but those resolutions would never come _ **

** _ as like nothing we desired ever did _ **

** _ we sat and heard and sat and fired and sat and got killed _ **

** _ nothing more, nothing less _ **

** _ and that's all I have to say about that." _ **

Maybe this poem could speak to both him and Feliciano, being bilingual to both problems, worries, and memories.

An indeed it was. Feliciano woke up about of half-an-hour later and looked over at the poem. "I like your repetition. It's saddening but it also makes sense. Looking back on it, it really just feels like mindless chatter, but I never let the sadness of it push me down." He yawned and stretched, revealing his tan arms and neck. "I guess everyone deals with it differently. But I'm not scared. I'm too scared to get scared." 

Ludwig just nodded. "Too scared to get scared?"

"Yeah. If I get scared about if ill make it until tomorrow or not, then I'll get too scared and I won't be able to do anything. I don't want to fight, but since I'm there I might as well do something, even if it's serving food or helping someone look for.. uh.." He snapped his fingers. "I don't know it in english..  _ piede di trincea..  _ it is like when they check your feet for-"

"Trench foot?"

"Trench foot!" He repeated it. "Weird word. Anyways, I try to help. Just not really into the guns part." 

Ludwig hadn't ever had a problem with firing guns; Gilbert had made it seem cool when they were younger, but that was just a fable. It was kinda numbing, in reality. Old memories, the same mindless buzz of a gun firing. He wasn't as pleased as he had been told he would be in school or training or anywhere he had ever heard it. 

"Me neither." 

\---

The night continued. For dinner was more of a light snack. Most of them weren't hungry and Roderich had to leave expectedly to go to one of the shops to repair a string on his violin. He would probably skip dinner. 

They settled on  _ Powidltascherl, _ a plum jam pastry that Roderich had bought with Feliciano earlier in the day. It was light and wouldn't bother the stomach, plus, Ludwig had no desire to eat; he didn't have an appetite when he was under a lot of thoughts. 

He wanted to forget about the poem. He wanted to forget about feelings and war. He wanted to much back that was taken from him. He wanted what he didn't understand and he wanted the end to the mysteries that plagued his mind. He wanted his superman of a brother back, he wanted to know at least when or how or why he wouldn't come back. This day was only filled with fustrations, with only a few springing moments of happiness. 

Feliciano sat nearby, on the stairs of the patio. It was a little chilly outside, but the stars were out and it was beautiful to look at. Ludwig didn't find much interest in sitting out there, but he did anyway. Feliciano munched quietly on his food, and silence drifted over them for some time. 

_ "I wonder where Lovino is right now."  _

It was a whisper, but it caught Ludwig's attention. The Italian said nothing after, a low hum radiating from him. It was like it wasn't meant to be said or even heard by anyone else in the whole world. It pitched Ludwig's curiosity. It was whispered with the sadness that Ludwig was immediately familiar with. Ludwig wanted to speak, but his mouth never moved, and the silence continued. Crickets chirped, the trees wavered and moonlight landed on them both.

Only a few moments later, Feliciano stood up and yawned, stumbling to the door. "I'm going to bed, I'm a bit tired." 

Ludwig looked at him. His arms wrapped around his bare forearms, his face compromised by emotion, one that Ludwig could no take apart. Their eyes met and Ludwig was also suddenly overwhelmed. How long could he hold all of his breath? How long could he deal with the reality of his life, his brother, this moment? The silence pressured both men, Ludwig could say anything. About the morning, last night when he pushed back tears, Gilbert, Feliciano's problems, their complex and odd and rude awakening Ludwig assumed was called their friendship. Ludwig could feel an ache, a want to comfort and be comforted, but they still said nothing.

But as always, Feliciano's lip up-turned the smallest bit. He stepped to the doorway, his hands falling to his sides. "Tomorrow?"

Ludwig had no idea what that meant, but he wouldn't say no to that. Tomorrow was good enough, not tonight. Emotions sprang too high, They both knew and understood, felt the surroundings of each other's distant feelings and just agreed, from solider to solider, from a friend to friend. Tonight was for dissent, tomorrow was for acceptance. 

"Tomorrow."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My goodness! Its already been four chapters! I can't believe I've actually made it this far, of course, I couldn't do it without yall's support! thank you so much for your comments and encouragement.
> 
> Ludwig ad Feliciano had a rough day. It's hard to be a soldier with pesky feelings and desires. jumbled up thoughts, anxiety, emotional damage, Ludwig isn't the only one going through the motions. Poor babies.
> 
> Honestly, this chapter was tricky and by far isn't my favorite. The next chapter will be fun to write and I'm excited about it! I hope that this chapter wasn't too bad :<
> 
> Yours truly,  
Amercaii
> 
> (P.S! Any future poems Ludwig writes are actually actual poems ive written about war, ptsd and love :) )


	5. The Letter, BlueBirds and Tears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?  
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:  
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,  
And summer’s lease hath all too short a date;  
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,  
And often is his gold complexion dimm'd;  
And every fair from fair sometime declines,  
By chance or nature’s changing course untrimm'd;"

Tomorrow didn't come soon enough. When sunlight peaked over the horizon, Ludwig woke up with no tiredness in his body. He glanced all around him, seeing the plain room with the whole house still. He blinked, running his hands through his hair. The weight in his chest had gotten heavier, but his thoughts weren't plagued by anxiousness.

Last night was different. He had been lost in emotions; dreadful, oppressive emotions. The day was so long, and Ludwig felt so out of touch with the world. He had realized the situation to a new level; whether that was good or bad wasn't discovered quite yet.

He knew Feliciano was also disturbed. He could see it in his eyes. They had never glimmered that terribly. And the more he thought about it, his quiet question had the same tone as when he had spoken of his grandfather when they were walking. It made Ludwig shiver.

Ludwig had his problems; every soldier did. But seeing Feliciano so... displaced hit him in his soul. But maybe today would be different. Maybe it would all turn around. 

He was wrong.

\--

When he finally bathed and got ready for the day, he found himself eased. Calm. It was a bit of a rainy Thursday morning. It felt serene. The rain pittered on the windows and the covers covered the sky. It was soothing to the ears, and it almost allured Ludwig back to sleep.

When the smell from the kitchen started to pool into his room and fuel his appetite, he slipped from his room to the kitchen. Only Roderich and Elizabeta were there, quiet as Roderich was reading a book and Elizabeta was working to cook. Ludwig sighed, "Guten Morgen."

"Good morning to you too." Roderich continued reading the book, cropping his glasses further up his nose. 

"Hallo Ludwig." Elizabeta chimed, bringing Schwartzbrot, a rye bread, to the table to eat with some jam and light butter. It smelled nice, and Ludwig was familiar with Austrians not having much to eat for breakfast. The took the bread, cutting it open to put the jam inside. It tasted delightful to a stomach that hadn't had food in hours, actually, more like months. That was still a luxury he was getting used too. Then again, he always had to remind himself that nothing was permanent.

"I'm sorry for not having dinner with you last night, I had to run out to do some errands. One string on my violin had snapped and I wanted to go buy a new one before the owner closed his shop." Roderick ate some of his bread, eating tiredly. 

"It is alright." Ludwig reasoned, shrugging. He had always remembered Roderich to be musically able, even with the limited time he spent with him throughout the years. 

"You've been spending a lot of time with Feliciano, no?" Elizabeta brought up, leaning on his arms against the table. 

"O...Oh, yeah. I suppose I have." Ludwig nervously chuckled.

"I'm frankly surprised," Roderich said, "Not very like you to gain friends quickly." 

Ludwig swallowed some bread, his mouth feeling suddenly dry. "It is easy for soldiers to relate, I guess. The same experiences are often catalysts for new friends." 

Roderich hummed. "Well, Feliciano hasn't had it easy, I'm sure he has told you."

He hadn't. And it kinda scared him. Ludwig had been thinking of himself so much that he didn't fully understand what Roderich had told him when he first arrived...

_ "It was hard since his brother is still on the front and his grandfather is.. in terrible condition. He's in a war hospital, and Feliciano couldn’t see him, according to letters.” _

Ludwig felt so dumb. He had ignored what could have been large details for his foolish suspicions. He bit his lip and looked down at his plate in what felt like a shame. If Feliciano was his friend, how was he supposed to help? Was he a bad friend for not stepping in immediately to address the misfortune?

"Ah. I suppose so." He lied through his teeth, ripping more bread off. Minutes passed, Footsteps soon came from the hall along with a long yawn. Ludwig didn't want to look. 

"Buongiorno everyone~" Feliciano mumbled politely, sleepiness layered his voice. He walked over and sat down, serving himself. 

"Good morning, Feliciano." Roderich nodded to him, passing him some coffee from the center of the table. Ludwig tried not to look, but he couldn't help it when he could see the way the sun shone into his mixed eyes. Feliciano looked back for a split moment before hearing a knock at the front door. 

Roderich stood up, grunting a little. "I'm coming." 

Ludwig turned back to his food, sipping some coffee as he slowly began to wake up a little more. Feliciano was more intrigued by what was going on at the front door. 

"Alles Klar, Auf Wiedersehen." The front door closed and the shuffling of paper came as Roderich returned to the kitchen. 

"Just mail." He sat down, pulling out a particular envelope, passing it to Feliciano. "This one is for you."

Feliciano's smile glimmered, taking the letter into his hands, turning it to look at the cover. "It's from my big brother!" He said in wonderment. "I wonder how he found out where I was, probably because I told him a little while ago I was staying with you." 

He slowly opened the envelope, taking out the few sheets of paper that appeared to be letters. "Excuse me," Feliciano said, going outside to the garden to read. He didn't blame him, he probably wanted some alone time to read the letters from his brother.

Ludwig wished he got a letter from his brother. 

Ludwig shook the thought away and finished his breakfast. He had gotten his full of those thoughts yesterday. Elizabeta cleaned up a little, placing dishes into the sink. "Ludwig, would you like to accompany me when I go to the store? I'm sure you'd like to buy some items for when you return your station, yes?" 

Ludwig hadn't thought about that, but when he started to think about it, he did realize this would be a great time to start collecting some essentials to bring back with him. He was always a clean freak at home, but the front lines had proved him guilty of not staying clean. It was hard with mud and rain and dirt constantly around, then the occasional blood splatter had Ludwig's clothes filthy. He desperately needed wool socks.

"Yes, I think that would be bright." Ludwig nodded, drinking the last part of his coffee before placing the mug into the kitchen sink. He washed his hands and used the excess water to brush back his hair. For as long as he could, he would never miss the shot to fix himself up.

Ludwig had gone upstairs to retrieve his jacket, putting it on along with another spray of cologne and returned downstairs where Elizabeta was there to greet him at the door. They left and walked the short way into town, walking from the front of the house to the end of the long stretch of road that turned into a sidestreet. Ludwig had been this way when he first arrived, and the small flowers on the side of the road had reminded him.

"So, You seem close to Feliciano.," Ludwig mentioned, his tone soft as they enter the bustling city circle. Elizabeta hmphed.

"Ah, he is a charming boy, a ladies man." She shrugged, holding a woven basket on her shoulder. "I actually met him before when he was younger. When Roderich and I had first started seeing each other, Roderich had been working for Feliciano's grandfather, so I met him a few times. He was such a sweet little boy, he reminds me of his grandfather." She cooed, cupping one of her cheeks. 

Ludwig smiled, gleaming around. He spotted a group of children, playing in the puddles as they were released for lunch. It was rather endearing to see, free from responsibilities and hardships. 

"I guess his grandfather was quite the man if Feliciano is like him." 

Elizabeta looked him up and down, chuckling to herself. 

\--

They walked around for a bit, Elizabeta stopping at stalls to get spices and fruits, along with vegetables and slices of the meat they did have. Ludwig spotted a small clothing store, sighing. 

"I'm going to go and buy what I need," Ludwig confirmed with Elizabeta, who nodded as she busily talked with a woman at a stall selling some meat spices. "Just don't take too long, I want to get started on lunch, don't make me leave you here~!" He laughed him off.

Ludwig shook his head wandered off to the store, going inside. There were some other younger boys inside, along with some women. There were yarn and some books, along with premade clothing that was stocked on shelves. He wandered the insides, seeing the few socks he needed. The top quality wool felt thick in his hands and it was going to be nice and warm in the dark and damp boots he had to wear. he shivered at the thought. He also grabbed a few pairs of undershirts and underwear to be well prepared. He walked to the front of the store, fishing out some Kronen to pay when the bookshelf behind the paying counter caught his eye.

A threaded cover blue, dark navy with faded gold lettering on the side, _Shakespeare Sonett_. He had read Shakespeare before and while he hadn't understood it well since, the moment drew him to the book, like fate was pressing on his back to get closer. 

_ " _Sir, will that be all?" The man behind the counter asked. 

"Em, can I get that book?" Ludwig nervously pointed at the title, something caught in his throat. The man nodded, taking it out of the shelf. It looked old, probably used. The pages had been written on and the edges of the paper were uneven and thick.

Someone knocked on the window of the store, alerting the German as he looked over. Elizabeta stood, holding the basket full of different foods and bags. "Are you ready?"

He quickly nodded, taking out his money and paying it in a rush. For some reason, he felt flushed and took his book and clothes, dropping a few coins as he came out of the store in a hurry. He didn't bother to pick them up. 

They walked home in a comfortable conversation. Ludwig quickly learned a lot about his cousin. Roderich and Elizabeta had been arranged to marry since their parents had been influential people. Elizabeta had been only fifteen when she met Roderich for the first time.

"Honestly, I thought of him as a snob." She rolled her eyes. "It was a bit ridiculous. He didn't try to impress, he more set his boundaries more than anything. Then when I started to see him more, he became more open to me. To tell you the truth, I'm happy he didn't leave for the war. He had gotten sick with Influenza and he wasn't enlisted, plus a bad knee didn't help that much either. When he surprisingly recovered it though, they still didn't enlist him, not that he was particularly interested in going." 

Ludwig looked up at the sky. It was cloudy, with only peaks of the sun shining through. He had never really considered _not _fighting. He could show diplomacy, that wasn't what he meant. He meant that he never supposed to opt-out of not going to battle. After growing up playing warriors and battling it out with sticks from the yard or bushes, he had always been willing to do what was right- fighting for his country. _Deutschland. _

"He doesn't seem like the one for a brawl, does he?" Elizabeta giggled to herself, propping the basket onto her shoulder. Ludwig chuckled to himself. 

"No, he wouldn't. He would be such a fuss. A my-way or no-way kind of man." Ludwig offered Elizabeta a hand to carry the basket but he pushed his hand away. 

Elizabeta was always persistent on that; always doing it herself and smiling while doing it. Ludwig understood why Roderich had enjoyed their marriage, unlike many other arranged couples. He didn't have to babysit his wife and his wife didn't need his advice constantly. She was admirable, intelligent and strong, something most men frowned upon in women. But Roderich, it only made him respect her more. Ludwig could easily agree.

They approached the house again. It was nice and sound as they walked back into the home, Elizabeta taking off her coat and boots to settle into her house shoes. Ludwig did the same, stripping off his coat and walking to the kitchen with her. Roderich had disappeared from the room and Elizabeta was distracted on beginning Lunch. 

"Would you go and tell Feliciano food will be done in about an hour? I assume he is still outside." Elizabeta asked, taking out some thin meat and bread. Ludwig nodded silently, stepping out of the kitchen, opening the door to the back porch. He shut the door behind himself, looking around. He spotted Feliciano under the tree, where the overgrown cobblestones had been laid flatly. He rested motionless, quiet and still. Ludwig could feel something wrong.

Ludwig stretched and yawned, walking down the steps towards him, looking at him. He approached him quietly, the grass rustling underneath his shoes. Feliciano sat against the tree, leaning on his knees as his arms loosely wrapped around his legs. As he leaned down, he noticed the redness of his cheeks, how raw they looked, how his eyelashes were still stuck together by wetness and a letter was nearby, some of the ink smudged by what he could only assume was tears. He laid asleep, soundless and unmoving.

At that moment, Ludwig's world had gone from upright to complete sideways. He was stuck, frozen still, barely even breathing. His soul was pounding in his heart, feeling the weight of his chest sink deeper and deeper. He had so many emotions coursing through him. He wanted to comfort and understand, ignore and leave, listen and keep. How could he help him? How could he prove himself to be a good friend? 

Ludwig gently extended his arm, shaking his shoulder a little bit. Feliciano blinked his eyes open, a locked tear came strolling down his face but it quickly got wiped away. He looked exhausted. "Ludwig?" 

The German hummed. "Lunch will be done soon, I figured you wouldn't want to miss that..?" 

Feliciano nodded, patting his face, "Ah, Si. Thank you." He looked up and smiled. He began to move, grabbing the letters and folding them neatly into his back pocket.

"You know if you need someone to talk to-" 

"I'll be okay," Feliciano reassured, placing a hand on Ludwig's shoulder as he stood up slowly. "I'm just... tired."

Ludwig may have not known Feliciano for long, but he was such a shit liar. His cheeks and eyes were red from the tears, and he had not a resemblance of a real smile- the smile that had captured Ludwig since the first day- anywhere. The skin that Ludwig had secretly admired had gone faint. It made Ludwig felt so... low. Like he had made the tears start and made Feliciano lie about how he felt.

But Ludwig didn't blame him, nor was he surprised that Feliciano was lying to save face; Soldiers did this often. Hiding secrets and tears from everyone else. 

But was Feliciano a soldier to him anymore? A soldier to Ludwig was someone who was a trained man, ready to fight and die without regret. They claimed battles and accepted death before defeat. But Feliciano hadn't seemed that vicious, that single-motived run. He was full of surprises, solutions without problems, smiles and painted blue skies with clouds. He had finally acknowledged their friendship, but how was he supposed to be a friend if he couldn't support?

Ludwig couldn't help if Feliciano didn't want it. And from the look of it, the Italian insisted to keep it to himself. He wanted to be a friend, but he knew at the least that, if friends really cared, they would leave them alone. If he wanted to talk, he would and he would still be there.

At least, that's how he thought that went. 

Feliciano breathing staggered, but still hummed in appreciation. "I think I'd like to sleep more. Can you tell Elizabeta that I'm tired and am going to retire early?" He asked. Feliciano did indeed look tired, even after taking a 'siesta'. Ludwig sighed and rubbed his neck.

"Ja. Please, go rest. I can bring you up food later." 

Feliciano only agreed and left the garden, sluggishly walking back into the house. There seemed to be no energy in him, like as if the life was sucked back into the world. Ludwig felt so incompetent. He too sat down onto the cool cobblestone, feeling the crisp breeze waver by. He was struggling between every thought and felt more confused in his whole life.

He liked straight answers. He didn't want to wait and wanted to fix it all, but he wanted to be kind. He saw the red-stricken eyes and knew that if he wanted to help, he would just wait, no matter how hard he wanted to embrace him and tell him it was alright. He wanted it to be alright, but it wasn't. He aspired to revive him, in any way.

That's what friends do, right? Yeah. Friends.

But the whole day passed and there was no sign of Feliciano, nor the next day. Ludwig couldn't do anything without the thought haunting him. The last he saw Feliciano was yesterday and he hadn't since. He sometimes would wait in the hallway outside his room, so hesitant and so weary, ready to knock on the door. To ask, to invite or comfort or laugh. But he didn't. 

Ludwig had roamed the house time and time again; he had no reason to go into town, nor any reason to go outside. It often rained, and Ludwig didn't do anything. He read books, but he would zone out so fast, running his thumb on the side of the book, feeling the pages stacked there. He had barely ever heard movement from upstairs. Both Roderich and Elizabeta urged Ludwig to not interact, to not disturb whatever process was happening in that room. What had been in those letters?

Ludwig wanted to say something; anything through any means. He was feeling utterly useless to Feliciano's grief and he was warned that he shouldn't intervene. 

But there was only so much patience in a man. And he only knew one other way to communicate with words.

He picked up his journal and started writing.

\--

_ ** You, bluebird, sing, ** _

_ ** for the sun brightly shines, ** _

_ ** and the earth perfectly spins ** _

_ ** and it is all alive. ** _

_ ** But something is missing, ** _

_ ** I know it is true, ** _

_ ** for there is no paint ** _

_ ** on my new black shoes. ** _

_ ** There is not a paintbrush to spare, ** _

_ ** no canvas painted still ** _

_ ** they lay carelessly there, alone ** _

_ ** with no luscious paints to be spilled. ** _

_ ** I wonder with all the tears, ** _

_ ** could you build a fountain? ** _

_ ** could you count each one ** _

_ ** as they came up and they sprouted? ** _

_ ** I am furious with you, ** _

_ ** I know you know not ** _

_ ** for why keep yourself locked away, ** _

_ ** and to never be comforted from being fraught? ** _

_ ** Bluebird, you are as free as the air ** _

_ ** and as soft as light ** _

_ ** so why shall you lock yourself up ** _

_ ** and keep a secret of your fright? ** _

_ ** Bluebird, you sing a lovely song ** _

_ ** and sway over rainbows, ** _

_ ** so why do you stay in your menagerie ** _

_ ** and leave me without your right-side appose. ** _

_ ** My confusion grows, ** _

_ ** when are daylight and moonlight ** _

_ ** and when will i not care? ** _

_ ** when your song is not sung ** _

_ ** and mystery is in still air. ** _

_ ** What can I do? ** _

_ ** What shall be done? ** _

_ ** When the bluebird has stop singing, ** _

_ ** and the meaning of the day is unbegun? ** _

\--

Ludwig ripped out the page from the journal, flinching at the slightly ruined stitch and approached the Italian man's door. Stillness radiated in his ears. Leaning down, he swiftly pushed the folded poem into the room through the crack under the oak door. He breathed out.

With now hours to do nothing, and the rain still coming on strong against the windows. He retrieved the painting from its drying place by the patio, taking it back upstairs with him. If he had nothing else better to do, then that would be the next best thing. He sat on the floor where he had originally found the painting, getting comfortable.

He took out the paints, careful not to waste them, starting to drabble on the painting soft puffy clouds. He made sure to add some pinks and soft yellows, along with a sun hidden in a cloud. It frustrated him at first, but he went slowly, and he became calm and steady. He added clouds and depth to the sky by using greys and navy blues. In that world, he figured, the endless sunny day would be full of nothing but peace. No fighting or heartbreak, no waiting on long lost brothers or bombs. He saw this, and he knew it was good. 

The sun did eventually set. Ludwig had eaten but finished rather quickly. He returned to his painting, lighting a nearby candle to light the room with warmth. It felt like he was in the old ages, where great painters and poets would sit at night and write about their lovers and want for death. Not that he was doing that.

He had painted well into the night, adding small stars and something that resembled the backyard with a lot of greens and yellows, although he hadn't started on the plants themselves. He wiped his brow and cleaned off another brush, listening to the rain against the window above.

"I knew you would learn somehow." Came a small, joking voice. Ludwig looked behind him and saw Feliciano wrapped in a soft robe there. He didn't look as tired, but oddly comfortable as he leaned against the doorway, his hand resting on the frame. 

"Feliciano..?" Ludwig asked, going to stand up but Feliciano hushed him, walking over. Ludwig slowly descended back onto the polished floor. Feliciano took one of the pillows from the bed, using it to sit on the floor with. He sat close to Ludwig and the fire from the candle nearby danced on his tan skin. Ludwig studied him softly and didn't hide it. But Feliciano only looked at the painting.

"Your use of color," He gestured to the surface of the canvas, his soft hand swaying slowly, "Its really, truly, wonderful." 

Ludwig furrowed his eyebrows. "Feliciano, what happened?" His voice was tender and smooth, gentle enough to soothe. 

Feliciano looked down, "It's very stupid. I apologize for making you worry." 

Ludwig shook his head, placing a hand on his covered shoulder. "I don't think it's stupid." 

Feliciano couldn't help but giggle. "That's because you don't know what it is yet." 

Ludwig only looked at him in calmness, firming his grip on his shoulder a little. "I know it's not stupid. I just want to understand."

Feliciano looked forward for a quiet moment, the distant thunder in the distance highlighting the sound. He looked like he was biting his lip, and he shifted. Eventually, he breathed out.

"Remember the night we were on the Patio?" He asked, pulling each of his fingers in slight worry. Ludwig hummed.

"Well, when I was looking at the stars, I got really... sad?" It sounded like he was asking, not fully understanding his emotion. "Me and my Brother Lovino would try and count stars at night when we were younger. Grandpa Roma always told us they were souls who went to heaven, so we counted them thinking it was good luck." He sadly chuckled, sniffling to himself. 

"Oh we used to lie on the roof at night and count all the stars, so close and near each other, we would end up falling asleep up there." He wiped his cheek softly. "It just.. reminded me of that. We are so far apart... it's so lonely now." 

He shifted on the pillow, shaking sighing as he looked up at the ceiling. Ludwig's heart pounded against his ribcage. "The letter didn't help. I was happy at first when I got it but.. after reading it.. it made me feel so alone without my family. I didn't want to give you my depressed mood so I just played it off. But when I read your poem, I realized I wasn't so alone anymore, that I hadn't just been by myself here.. The poem reminded me that sulking wasn't who I am, and both my brother and you wouldn't want me to be like this. That you wanted to help." Feliciano's hand stirred and touched Ludwigs, gently on top. 

And Ludwig, possibly for the first time in his life, his eyes began to water. Tears started to flood down his cheeks, and his lips were clamped shut. Feliciano's eyes widened. "Oh no, Ludwig, I'm sorry-!"

"Nein, nein, i-its alright." Ludwig wiped his tears away. "Your just.. not the only one."

Feliciano sat closer than before, silently listening for anything Ludwig had to say. Ludwig first looked at him in surprise that he would want to hear, but eventually spilled it all.

"I haven't received anything from my brother in months." He shakily whispered, his hands trembling under Feliciano's. "I'm scared. I'm so afraid that I'll never see him again."

Feliciano looked like he was going to weep again. "I'm so sorry Ludwig, I wish I had known, I would have tried to make you feel better. I can't believe I was so selfish."

Ludwig couldn't be hearing what he was hearing. He had never found such empathy from anyone in his whole entire life and it shook him down to his very core. Feliciano had gone through his own emotions but still worried more about everyone else. "No. I let you down. Roderich told me about your brother before I met you, but I was so selfish and only worried about me. I could have helped." He looked down in shame.

"To be honest.." Feliciano sighed guiltily. "I was scared to meet you. I thought German soldiers were really harsh and mean, and I knew I was an enemy to you, although I didn't want to be. So I tried to hide my feelings so you couldn't see through me.. At first, at least." 

"Us soldiers," Ludwig looked up to him and tried to smile, his rigid breath making his shoulders shake "tend to keep our emotions far away. Too dangerous, you know. It's risky to feel." 

"But I don't think you as a German Soldier, not really." He looked into Ludwig's eyes. "Here, we don't have to be soldiers. I can be Feliciano, you can be Ludwig. There's no danger here." He whispered. "I don't want to hold my emotions back anymore, I want to feel again," He reached up and wiped Ludwig's tears away as his own still trickled down his face. Ludwig felt so warm, so accepted and more than that so... loved.

"Ludwig, you have done so much for me already. I don't want you to be hurt anymore by keeping it all in. If you ever need me, I'm always here." And a final act of acceptance and comfort, Feliciano slowly brought Ludwig into his arms, hold his head close to his shoulder. Ludwig's tears only swept down his face more, the emotions overwhelming. "I'm always your friend."

Ludwig hugged back, feeling his body close to Feliciano's partially naked one, but he didn't care. They just stayed like that, with tears stained on their cheeks, and a comforting rain outside to sing them both to sleep. 

"I am always your friend." and for the first time, someone stepped into his world, and the sound of silence was over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My goodness! This chapter is longer than usual, but this is by far my favorite chapter. I hope it was understandable :b
> 
> Ludwig finally got his "Tomorrow" talk and he got more than he bergained for. Our boys have been keeping intense emotions locked away for too long, time to let it all out. But now that Ludwig has finally started to heal from the uncertainty of Gilberts status, I wonder what else he could start thinking about..
> 
> Anyways, thank you all so much for your comments! I love yall so much!  
Yours,  
Amercaii~


	6. A Emotional Nap, Guests and Midnight Paintings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?  
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:  
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,  
And summer’s lease hath all too short a date;  
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,  
And often is his gold complexion dimm'd;  
And every fair from fair sometime declines,  
By chance or nature’s changing course untrimm'd;  
But thy eternal summer shall not fade,  
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow’st;

Ludwig had never supposed he had seen a naked man before. 

Well, that was a lie. He had seen his brother naked and some of the soldiers who were trying to change quickly. So, maybe it was more like this;

Ludwig had never supposed he had seen a naked man that he was suspiciously attracted to before.

And that was pushing it. With the emotional late-night, Ludwig and Feliciano ended up sleeping practically on top of each other, still on the floor in front of the painting. Ludwig had been leaning on the bed, while Feliciano comfortably was laying on his lap, facing his torso. The maroon robe around his shoulders had loosened, exposing his chest to Ludwig. Thankfully, beyond his belly button was covered up, so he was spared from the awkward encounter.

Ludwig had been sitting there awake for about ten minutes, tense as to not wake the Italian. Feliciano just looked so serene, and he wanted to pretend that his heart wasn't beating rapidly in his chest. His dark brown locks sprawled across his thighs and Feliciano's hand rested near his face. Ludwig was mesmerized by the appeal this man held, and Ludwig sought his best to push it away, but it seemed every day it was getting more difficult.

Ludwig blinked out of his vision and gently put his hand under Feliciano. He slowly brought him into his arms, Feliciano comfortably shifting. Ludwig found Feliciano to be light, but still stumbled in his step. Feliciano's robe exposed his shoulder, and Ludwig tried his best to not pay attention. He walked over to the door, managing to open it. Feliciano's head rested against his chest, and he was sure that his heartbeat was louder than bombs. Walking across the hall and into Felicianos room, he put Feliciano gently down on his unmade bed. Feliciano softly smiled in his sleep, feeling the weight of the cool quilt on his skin. Ludwig breathed out in relief.

Ludwig knew it wasn't polite to noisy around. But the letter that lay on the bedside table made him rethink all of his decisions. He sat down on the stool next to the bed, taking the letter into his hands. In disappointment, he found the letter was written in Italian. He figured, seeing as this was probably the letter Feliciano had received two days ago, it was from his brother. The handwriting was messy and looked angry, noticing as he scanned the pages. He wondered who was his brother, and what was he like. 

Something else caught his eye. Closer to Feliciano was something folded neatly but stained, its edges not as sharp and crumbled. He set down the letters to take ahold of the note, unfolding it. It was a black and white photo, a young man and woman, holding two twin boys. 

"I thought my Mamma was always so pretty." Ludwig lifted his head and turned, seeing Feliciano staring back at him, still resting on the bed warmly. Ludwig stuttered.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to look through your things..-!"

"Don't worry about it." Feliciano shot Ludwig a comforting smile, his sleepy eyes gleaming with it. Ludwig flushed and looked down.

"So that's your mother and father, I presume?" He studied the black and white photos. They were both attractive, sporting curly hair, while the man looked a little bit sterner than his wife. She had her hands on a small boy's shoulders, which another stood nearby in the same fashion but with his father. Feliciano sighed and nodded, rubbing his eyes.

"My brother Lovino is next to my Papa." He mentioned, sitting up a little. He made no effort to wrap himself up into his robe, but let his chest stay revealed. "I'm next to my Momma." 

"I see." Ludwig rubbed the photograph lightly with his thumb. "Are you a twin?" 

Feliciano shook his head. "No, my brother Lovino is a year older. We look very similar, but that's just because of my Papa." Indeed, Lovino looked much like their father, but Feliciano personally resembled his mom, her great big smile showing.

"You look like your father when you're sadder, I would say." He put the photo on his lap. "But your smile belongs to you Mother."

"Like I said," Feliciano sighed peacefully. "My Momma was a very beautiful woman."

Ludwig looked over at Feliciano. _ "Was?" _

Feliciano glanced down at the photo, letting himself collapse back onto the bed. He shifted his gaze to the ceiling. _ "Was."  _

"I'm sorry," Ludwig mumbled to him. 

"It's okay." Feliciano fumbled his hands on the edges of the cover. "She got  _ tubercolosi _ , Tuberculosis. so did my father. They were struggling for a long time, but I know they were smiling when they passed. They were going to heaven and knew they would see us again. I was sad for a little while, but my mother didn't want me to be discouraged and so it just.. made me realize that grieving them wouldn't be what they wanted. So I tried to move on and I soon felt better." He drew in a long breath, feeling the cool air around them. "So, my grandfather took me in. I was only about six."

Ludwig felt terrible guilt run through his body, as he bit his lip. They were friends now, he didn't have to hold back. "My uh," he stumbled. "My mother was also a very lovely woman. She died during childbirth with me." He looked back to Feliciano, who to Ludwig's surprise, looked concerned and intense. 

"I'm sorry Ludwig." He fully sat up, leaning to look at the German's face. "That's very sad."

Ludwig hummed and shrugged a little. "Its kinda hard to miss something you never had, although I felt so guilty for all of it. Seeing my brother and father cry was always... a lot to handle. I always assumed I was the one who.. did that to my mother."

Ludwig suddenly felt hands on his arm, seeing Feliciano punch it a few times. "Don't you ever say that again!"

Ludwig blinked in confusion, his eyes going wide. The punches didn't really hurt, but it caught his attention. "H-Huh?"

"You can't blame yourself for her death! You were only a baby!" He softly shouted, "She wanted to have you, and she knew there are always risks. Sadly, she died, but you can't sit here and think it was all your fault. She carried you for all that time and loved you so much. Your mama would want you to be alive. So please, don't believe this was your fault. That's not fair to you." He furrowed his eyebrows, a frown still on his face. He got very close to Ludwig, lending over the bedside.

Ludwig looked deep into the green and hazel eyes, his heart pounding. He had never told anybody that, not even to his brother. He wanted to cry again but refrained until the urge went away. But it was already too late, and Feliciano noticed the prickly tears. He sat in thought, looking down until he popped his head back up.

"Would you like.. to lay down with me?" 

Ludwig stumbled in alarm. " _ Was?  _ We just woke up!" Feliciano just smiled. 

"When was the last time you were held, Ludwig? By anyone?"

Ludwig thought and realized he couldn't answer. His father wasn't much of a touchy type, and Gilbert only held him when he was small or when he could cry like a toddler. He looked down.

"You know, men also need comfort." Feliciano's hand gripped Ludwig's forearm softly. "I know its silly, but maybe you would feel better if you just accepted a hug for once." 

Ludwig sighed. "I'm okay, really... I just.. " He tried to make an excuse, his words crumbling as he noticed Felicianos face was posted with such sarcasm it was almost funny. An eyebrow raised, an expecting look and grin. Feliciano could see through all of it, somehow. Not like Ludwig was a good liar in the first place.

Ludwig gave up. "Alright. I'll lay down with you." 

Feliciano returned to his graceful smile, pushing over and giving Ludwig room to lay. Ludwig at first sat on the edge of the bed, his nerves going completely haywire. He had never laid in bed with someone before, and especially not with another man.

He looked back at Feliciano. He had recovered his chest and laid down on the singular pillow. He laughed and took Ludwig's arm, pulling him down forcefully onto the bed. Feliciano seemed so comfortable with the human touch, Ludwig frizzled up the second he felt Feliciano's hands and arms wrap around his back. Ludwig was against Feliciano's collarbone, Feliciano's arm resting on his shoulder, a hand curling into his blonde hair. Ludwig's chest felt so heavy, his soul was drowning in intense emotion, making every part of his body sensitive. Feliciano was humming a sweet melody and he could feel the vibrations against his forehead. It filled the moments of Silence that Ludwig had grown to hang on to, it switched the whole world on him. 

Feliciano's slender fingers brushed through his golden locks, making Ludwig sigh in a chaste bliss. It felt so warm to be compassed, held like he was small and innocent again. The scent of cotton and flowers that came from Feliciano were intoxicating, and the softness of the plump skin made Ludwig to subconsciously hold tighter. Was this natural?

Ludwig wasn't sure what this meant, or how to feel, but he knew one thing; When this was all over and the last fading warmth was gone, he would miss it more than anything he had ever left behind. So Ludwig held a little tighter and let Feliciano's arms engulf him in endearing affection, feeling his pulse against his cheek. He wanted it to last forever, or atleast.. remember it for as long as he could. This was only a moment, but maybe, if Ludwig tried hard enough, it could last forever.

\--

When Ludwig opened his eyes again, he was no longer encompassed in arms. Covers were up to his neck and he was alone. It looked late in the afternoon, and the sun peaked through the white curtains. Somewhere, a bird was singing. 

He sat up groggily, covering his arms. Ludwig felt.. good. 

His mind was more or less free from arranging thoughts and dates. He just felt calm, and even more, accepted. He had never really vocalized his passions or much of anything emotional to anyone. It was so much easier than revealing secrets that could make him vulnerable. But he didn't fear this outcome. Feliciano could probably be the only one in the entire world right now that could relate to him.

Feliciano had something about him. At first, Ludwig just credited the charm and giddiness to his Italian persona, but it was more than that. Ludwig had been constantly left thinking 'who was this man' and 'why does he treat me like this'. Feliciano was more than what Ludwig saw on the first night on his leave. He was an unrestricted soul, kind and entertaining, beyond what Ludwig could handle. Talented and self-less. His eyes always caught him. They sparkled in a different way than anybody else, and they saw right through every lie and nervous excuse. He was different.

_ Oh god, what's happening with me?  _ Ludwig dug his face into his palms, feeling the hotness of his cheeks.

He had realized Feliciano was the person in the square, the pair of eyes that were staring back at him in full curiosity. Was it then? When he had caught Ludwig's heart and wound his hands around it as if it was his? Did he know that the person he was seeing would change it all forever?

Was Ludwig ever going to say something? About that? He knew Feliciano knew, the second they saw each other the morning at breakfast, the way his face went into full recognition had Ludwig convinced. Did that mean Feliciano knew what this feeling was? Did he feel it too? The intense heaviness, the bowstring pulled too tight feeling? 

Ludwig felt so stupid for trying to reason with himself. It would be uncomfortable to ask. How would be approach the subject? Ludwig gathered all the sheets, methodically making Feliciano's bed. How would Feliciano react to such a.. dangerous proposition? One unrecognized by society as a whole.

It was easy enough to say "Are you the man from the town-square?" but Ludwig felt something deeper than a premature meeting. When he saw those eyes, even if he didn't know it before, he had been enthralled by it. The feeling had returned when he saw Feliciano that night as he saw his features for the first time in full. It was fresh, inspiring, fizzy, funny, and frightening. Like if he was sailing in a blue sky with clouds, free in this unconstrained feeling, but saw the ground and panicked. He desired something about Feliciano, but he didn't know what. He was lost in his little world, something battlefields hadn't even done. Thoughts of Feliciano filled the unnerving silence now, and Ludwig was perplexed. What did these feelings mean, why were they here? 

He finished the bed, just in time for Elizabeta to stop in. "Oh good, you're awake. I have some new clothes that I just washed for you." In her hands held a pair of slacks and a sweater with shirts. She handed it over to the trouble-minded German. She had seen his gears turning, but said nothing. 

"Before I forget to tell you," She said, "We are having a friend of Roderich's over tonight. He will be bringing his adopted sister, so be ready for dinner." She nodded at him. 

"Thank you, Eliza." He nodded back as she shut the door to Feliciano's room. She didn't even question why Ludwig was in there in the first place.

\--

Evening came swiftly. After Ludwig had bathed for dinner, he waited until the guests arrived. Feliciano was down in the kitchen for most of the afternoon, helping Elizabeta prepare the meals. Ludwig allowed the painting in his room to dry more and he sorted his room. 

He only had six days left. It had almost been an entire week already. It had flown by with more measure he thought it would. It wasn't like it was meant to happen; it was an ill-fated shot and an ill-chosen circumstance with a slight glimmer of hope and luck. That's what this trip was. 

When he heard voices downstairs with a doorbell, he figured the guests were here. He stretched, smoothed his dinner clothes and escorted himself downstairs. The room had smelled of the food prepared. 

"Basch. It is nice to see you again." Roderich said. They all stood in the Atrium of the house, as the short blonde man shook off the umbrella he carried and took off his blue jacket. He had a navy blue vest and under it a buttoned-up shirt. The girl next to him had similar blonde hair and a light pink frilly dress. She had stitched white flowers onto the edges. 

"Ludwig," Roderich presented the man to him, whose face was stone cold. "This is an old friend of mine, Basch Zwingli. This is his sister, Lili Zwingli."

She looked shy but still smiled at Ludwig. "Nice to meet you." 

"Well then," Elizabeta clapped her hands. "Let's go and eat."

Feliciano was setting the table as they entered the kitchen. Elizabeta had gone to the counter, as the men sat down. Feliciano sat across the table from Ludwig, while Roderich waited for his wife on one side and Basch and Lili sat on the other side together. Roderich conversed with his guests as Elizabeta served them. She and Feliciano had made  _ Tafelspitz,  _ a traditional Austrian dish with beef that had been boiled in broth with a serving of minced apples and horseradish. They said grace and began to eat. 

Ludwig hadn't realized he was hungry until he had the food in front of him. It looked delicious and he was surprised. Rations had been hard on everyone, so he was surprised that Elizabeta was able to prepare a generous meal for them. He was truly grateful.

"This is wonderful, Ms. Edelstein!" The girl smiled heartily, her high pitched voice faint and delicate. She brushed back the velvet pink ribbon.

"Why, thank you, Lili." Elizabeta grinned back, taking her napkin and setting it on her lap. Lili promptly did the same. 

Ludwig's eyes glanced over to the Italian man, seeing him looking back. He soared a glance and smile before going back to his plate. He shifted to an ongoing conversation between Roderich and Basch. They were talking confidently; as if an old relationship had begun to bloom in a new era. Most of it was in German, which everyone at the table understood, or Ludwig assumed.

It wasn't until he noticed Feliciano uncomfortably shifting in his chair that he remember he only understood English and Italian. He coughed.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, " Ludwig announced, "Feliciano doesn't understand you."

Roderich looked up surprised. "Oh, Feliciano. I'm sorry, we must forget. We'll talk in English."

Feliciano smiled at that. He nodded at them, listening as they continued the open conversation in English now. Ludwig intently listened to the story and quietly participated, a whistling sound radiating towards him. He peered around for a moment, seeing Feliciano looking at him

Thank you, he mouthed silently.

Ludwig's small upturn of his lips graced his face and he nodded back. Feliciano proceeded to turn away, the flush on his cheeks gentle. Ludwig looked away too, finishing his meal and concealing his gentle sin of joy.

But little did he know, someone else laid witness to the moment.

\-----

Dinner was finished. The table was cleared, and almost everyone decided to enjoy the crisp air of the night. the light the moon gave an immense glow. Roderich and the Swiss man continued to talk as they leaned against the patio railing, looking out at the dim garden. Lili and Elizabeta had sat down on the stairs, reading, and sowing. Ludwig and Feliciano had resumed on their painting, even though it was slightly dark; Feliciano requested. 

They dragged out all of the art supplies and set down on their usual cobblestone spot. Ludwig had sat down, Feliciano hanging on his shoulder. The Italian man instructed him appropriately, allowing Ludwig's hand to move with gentle strokes. Ludwig felt calmer than the first time their painting lesson had occurred. The atmosphere was peaceful and it was as if everyone there valued every moment. They all soaked in the starshine and luminescence.

"You're doing so well. I didn't expect this much improvement." Feliciano praised, a hand rubbing his shoulder. Ludwig was building a soft green landscape, directions coming from Feliciano. Ludwig couldn't help but bite his lip.

He leaned back from the painting, his back resting on the chair. "I mean," He began, "I can't be that good."

Feliciano rolled his eyes playfully. "I've never met someone so reluctant to accept a compliment~"

Ludwig shrugged, a smile creeping on his lips. "Arent, all 'good' painters shunned and exiled from society for their new era works?" He asked.

"Most. But who said that had to be you?" He laughed, taking the paintbrush for a moment to add a quick detail.

"Why wouldn't I go with the flow?" He asked, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow. "If that's what being good is, I much rather go with the grain than against it. It doesn't make for a very interesting story to tell in a hundred years if I lived a healthy life."

"I suppose, but I would rather if you lived happily." Feliciano reasoned, his face soft with delicacy. He focused himself in the words but his hands still purposely painting. "And... you already go against the grain. And you're still good. You're good at going against the flow and being the unexpected." Feliciano looked at him and surreally said with all the truth Ludwig could imagine. "And I'm not talking about painting."

Ludwig's heart sped up and he needed to remind himself to breathe.

"You're good, Ludwig. Painting and otherwise. I thought you wouldn't be different in the beginning, like you could be another enemy." He breathed out slowly." But you weren't. And you aren't. You are a brilliant mind making brilliant work, being unexpected to everything conceived as normal. That's what makes painters, and you, so wonderful."

Ludwig felt like he had zero room to treat this. His mind was ticking into place. The gears that shifted and ticked in his head churned to a stop. Everything was blank and chaotic in his small mind that he froze. He blankly stared at the beauty of the face before him and he processed the amount of emotion it evoked. It felt like a forever passed between seconds, and the curls, moonlight skin and the eyes were immortal and being. It felt like he was living in a contradiction. He was drifting in the sea of words, like as they were wide and endless like the sea. He was also floating in an unreal space of the moment like he was watching himself descend deeper and deeper into a perplexing feeling. Ludwig was spellbound. Feliciano chuckled tensely.

"Luddy?" He asked. "Are you okay?" He waved a hand in front of his face.

Ludwig was shot back to reality at the sound of his name and he nodded. "Y-Yeah, I'm fine."

Feliciano beamed back and simply began to collect his tools. Some time had passed and everyone was going inside to go to rest. They needed to pack their things up for the night. Feliciano began to take down the burrowed easel but Ludwig stopped him. "I'll t-take it down. You go on without me."

"Thanks. Goodnight, Ludwig." Feliciano held his brushes and rags, moving from Ludwig. He traveled across the courtyard from their cobblestone spot. Ludwig suddenly felt an urge to speak, urgency surging through his body, up to his throat to his mouth.

"F-Feli?" He called out. The Italian man stopped in his tracks and looked back. He was at the stairs of the patio and he glanced at him.

"You're great t-too. And thank you, for earlier. Your.. comfort really did make me feel better."

Feliciano shook his head and chuckled. He traveled up the stairs and back into a dimly lit house. Ludwig sighed in almost pent-up exhaustion. Ludwig could feel the ever longing weight in his chest, the feeling of ecstasy as his heart pumped blood quickly through his chest. He was heated against the cool, tame night.

He slowly gathered the painting and easel and make his way to the door. He wasn't tired. He was springing awake with only a dim notion of sleep in him. His mind was high in the clouds and only he bared it. This was not the mind of the soldier, but of someone enraptured by deep affections and attraction.

He set the stand down inside before going back out and setting the painting down on the patio, leaning against the railing. It wasn't a very big painting but it held itself quite nicely. He sat down on the porch deck, examining the work from a few feet away. The wood under him was soft with some leftover moisture from the rain, but he didn't care. He had nothing else to do, and his bedroom did not particularly gratify his mood. He studied the painting instead. It was unfinished, yes but it was lovely and spectacular. The brush strokes blended in seemly into the realism of the painting. It was really, Ludwig thought, wonderful.

He laid awake for hours. Well into the night, dozing off a few times. But he couldn't, and frankly, didn't want to move. It was a brilliant midnight and nothing around him stopped him, not even is ceaseless rationality. He stayed on the patio, arms holding his legs to his chest as his head rested on the knees. The late-night merged into the early morning, dark with only moonlight to encompass all the sights around him. Although he gazed at the painting, his thoughts drifted off to the quite outgoing and tender brunette. He had welcomed Ludwig into his arms, memories, and life. It astonished him that he was that embraced, that received, that acknowledged. His odd ways had taken him by surprise because they _worked_, and started to change everything he thought or felt or knew. He had never been held like that, never spoken too like that, never taken and welcomed like that; like he was something more than a solider or a number. It was all so different.

Ludwig didn't understand how he felt, but he didn't want to ignore it anymore. It felt good. It felt good when Feliciano touched him, or how his eyes gleamed with such enthusiasm at him. He relished the soft melody of his humming or the strokes of his slender fingers through his golden hair. Feliciano was the lively energy in his unawakened soul. The ambition that drove his day. He was helpless against the affections and friendliness Feliciano showed him. He attempted to resist but his heart was becoming stronger against this fight against logic. He maybe did have only a few days, and maybe this painting would fade into obscurity. But Ludwig didn't believe he'd ever forget this feeling. This rich, deep and full sense. He would be a fool, or dead if he did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I guess its been a little while since I've updated. I'm sorry yall, sometimes school gets in the way :( but now that i have some more free time, ill be updating soon again!
> 
> Ludwig is finally coming to terms with how he feels, but maybe someone will have to state the elephant in the room to finally get it across... Who knows? ;)
> 
> Thank you all so much for the Kudos and Views! I appreciate it so much!  
Yours,  
Americaii~


	7. The Morning, a Trip and Vienna Daydreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?  
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:  
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,  
And summer’s lease hath all too short a date;  
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,  
And often is his gold complexion dimm'd;  
And every fair from fair sometime declines,  
By chance or nature’s changing course untrimm'd;  
But thy eternal summer shall not fade,  
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow’st;"

The fading night turned into soft dawn, the sky layered with early blues, the rays of the sun not mounting yet. Ludwig comfortably snoozed on the patio deck, loosely holding himself against his chest. The painting laid somewhat dry, still leaned against the patio railing. Finally, the rainclouds were gone, and it would be a clear day, only an hour away from daybreak.

Someone stepped out into the patio, being one of the first people to awake. They were first reluctant to shake the man awake, but somewhat worried for his comfortability. They closed the door behind them and neared the German quietly, stretching a hand out to shake his shoulder.

Ludwig woke up in a haze, blinking tiredly. He glanced around, seeing that he slept all night outside. His skin was cool to the touch and his hair had fallen over his forehead. He turned to look at his awaker, observing the young swiss girl standing behind him. Her hair was in short, blond french braids and her pink nightgown had been accosted by a navy blue jacket. Ludwig realized the guests had probably stayed the night instead of trekking home back to Switzerland. 

"Oh, I'm sorry." Ludwig groggily mumbled, rubbing his eye. "I didn't mean to be in your way."

"No no, I had just woken up and noticed you were out here. I was unsure if you were okay." Lili quietly said, moving to stand next to him as Ludwig began to stretch out. "Were you out here all night?"

"Oh, Uh, I guess I was.." He was embarrassed about being caught. He cracked his back and his arms, sighing. He extended his legs and looked around him. Nothing changed but the light was now the blueish sky and the white, fluffy clouds that were above them.

"I don't blame you, it was fairly nice last night, especially when we were all sitting out here." She hummed, her hands clasped together. 

"How long will you and your brother be staying?" He asked, beginning to stand up. He dusted off his pants and yawned quietly. 

"Oh, until tomorrow. I decided I'd like to go sight-seeing." She smiled, over-looking the garden.

"Where are you planning to go?" He asked.

"Vienna. It's only a few hours away." She smiled. "Mr. Edelstein invited us to go since he is performing there. We might be able to listen to him play." She folded her jacket over her front, rubbing her arms. 

Honestly, Ludwig wasn't very interested in going. He had seen his cousin perform before and he had gone to Vienna before. But he knew Feliciano would be ecstatic to go. He would run around and flirt with pretty women and look at all the magnificent churches and shops. He couldn't help but grin at the thought. 

"Hm? what's so funny?" She asked. 

"I was just thinking that Feliciano would have a good time there. He's not from here, so it would be a first time experience." 

Lili hummed and looked to the side, in thought. "I.." 

Ludwig looked up at the young woman. She looked shy as if she was afraid to say something. She was holding her braid and looking away from the German, fumbling a little.

"You and Mr. Vargas seem to.. I don't know... very--"

"Breakfast is done!" Elizabeta announced, opening the door in a swing. "Come eat before its cold. If you want to be awake for your trip, you need some energy." 

Ludwig looked back and made a thumbs-up, elizabeta ducking back into the kitchen. Ludwig slowly stood up and looked back at Lili. 

"What were you saying? I'm sorry." He dusted his pants off and looked around at the awakening world. The sun began to show its color on all the plants and trees.

Lili shook her head and clasped her hands together. "Nothing. I.. forgot what I was going to say." 

Ludwig knew she was lying. She was in thought for a few moments before and now she had forgotten. He didn't stay on the judgment though and moved on. 

"We.. should get inside." He said, putting his head down and heading through the glass door into the kitchen. He warmth of the kitchen burned against Ludwig's cool skin and he shivered in the heat. Lili approached the kitchen counter and started to help the young Hungarian woman.

Ludwig decided on a bath before breakfast, quickly washing as to be presentable. Of course, last night's memories simmered into his thoughts and he began humming to himself. The hot bath sizzled against his skin like how the tan touches of the Italian burned the same. He could suddenly feel every place in his body that he remembers his touches simmer in delight. And Ludwig kept the desire to himself. 

He climbed out and quickly dressed for breakfast. As he buttoned the last few buttons on his shirt, he knocked on Feliciano's door.

"Yes?" The Italian asked through the door.

"Just coming to wake up for breakfast." Ludwig stood, listening intently.

"Oh, Alright! You can come in." 

Ludwig opened the doors to find the Italian almost completely naked but for some shorts. The all too familiar dark skin and the warm summer curls were the first things he couldn't help notice. Ludwig immediately closed the door and stammered horrendously as he stood in the room. 

"W-Why did you a-ask me to come in if y-you are dressing?!" He covered his eyes with his hand.

A loud boom of laughter filled the room as Feliciano moved around, presumingly putting on clothes. "You've never seen a man nude before!? _Prendere in giro_, you're funny!" 

Ludwig grunted. "You didn't answer the question..!"

"Oh, right!" He laughed, now forcing Ludwig's hand from his face, revealing a fully dressed Feliciano. "I was only inviting you in, plus I wanted you to wait for me, it would have been rude if _I only_ came to breakfast late, but with you, I don't look bad."

Ludwig rolled his eyes. "Maybe if you didn't sleep so late, you would be on time."

Feliciano scoffed playfully and grinned, taking a light jacket, "I need all the rest I can get, not like I got much back on the front." He stretched before moving past Ludwig. "Let's go!"

Ludwig found himself being pulled out of his chamber and down the stairs, Ludwig stumbling over the steps. This would be the first of many pulls of arms of the day. 

As the morning began and they started on their way to Vienna, which was going to be a few hours, Feliciano was tugging his arm at every mountain and lake they passed or waved to schoolchildren that hailed back. Roderich and Elizabeta sat in the front of the motor vehicle while Feliciano and Ludwig sat in the back. Both Basch and Lili rode in their motorcars sometime behind them. The landscape passed by quickly as they drove the cobble roads, far and deep inside Austrian countrysides.  The scenery was indeed majestic.

Soaring mountains with snowy tops that trickled into green valleys with lakes and villages with faraway wood houses. Forest was wide and endless and spread everywhere. Springing white and fluffy clouds hanged in the sky, and trees that bloomed with emerald greens and virescences. Sunlight would trickle through the windows and lay its rays on their faces, coloring their skin bright white and gold. God's favorite place had to be these skies and peaks, or else why make them so beautiful?

Feliciano was also a sight to behold. He found himself often smiling at every pull of the sleeve, turning his head to give him a reason to stare at the man. Feliciano would point at mountains or towns on the cliffs of lakes, But Ludwig had been distracted. He didn't want to gaze, but he did. He didn't want to hear the laughter, the jokes, and touchings, but he let them flood his mind. He was a great orchestra and Ludwig was a speck in the audience. His laughter was the deep melody of a cello, his humming a harp, his voice a sweet symphony of cords and strings, flutes and trumpets that joined together to create something Ludwig fell helplessly to. 

**What a Masterpiece.**

"Ludwig?" Feliciano laughed and turned to see Ludwig glancing at him, a gentle admiration on his face. Feliciano's smile faded just a little. "What's with that face?" His voice was soft.

"Oh, its nothing.." Ludwig looked away and rubbed his neck. He was suddenly embarrassed that he was caught staring when He should have been looking outside with Feliciano. 

"I know, I talk too much, that's what my brother used to say.." Ludwig immediately looked back to find Feliciano's head down. The engine of the car was loud enough, and only Feliciano could hear the conversation.

"No." He firmly said. "It's not that. I just.. zoned out. I don't think you talk too much... Frankly... I like what you have to say. You're very energetic." The German confessed.

Feliciano pout turned into a bright smile once again, the sun hitting the green in his eyes the most particular way. "_Grazie,_ Luddy! Yeah, I just am excited about today. I wish I could play in an orchestra, all the elegant violins, and singers. It must be so brilliant to hear such music all at once! I admire Roderich for being so talented."

Ludwig nodded in agreement. "You already have talent though. You're an artist, just like him, right?"

Feliciano waved his hand in dismissal, "I only paint, but being a musician is a different thing! I could never put in such hard work." 

Ludwig only shook his head and made a mental note. He would have to come up with something to say later. They could see the large city from afar and after about 3 hours, they were finally arriving. The houses and apartments became more common and the road was turning into cobblestone and cement. As they drew closer into the center of the city, the large apartment, and store buildings, women with soft colored dresses and children walking around, some soldiers about. The pulled up to a very fanciful building and people looked on at the car. Nowadays, especially during the war, people couldn't afford their cars. The musical event was not happening until later in the evening, and since it was only noontime, they had plenty of time to roam around the city as Lili hoped for. Roderich said his goodbye to his friend and wife before leaving them with his Violin and case with papers.

"I suggest we split up," Elizabeta said. "I know my way around Vienna so I can find my back here with Lili and Basch. Ludwig, you can take Feliciano." 

That was simple enough. "Alright, I'll see you.. soon.." Ludwig peered around for Feliciano and found that he was gone. Lili laughed and so did Elizabeta. 

"He ran over there." Basch pointed around the corner. Ludwig quickly walked to look over the wall, seeing the absurd Italian press his face against store windows.  "Hey!" Ludwig quickly ran over to catch him without a goodbye. Elizabeta just laughed wholly and walked away with her group.

"They really are polar-opposites!" Lili announced, her hands clutched in front of her. Her older brother hummed in agreement.

Elizabeta snickered thought and continued. "But a match made in heaven."

\--------

Saying Feliciano was energetic was an understatement. Disappearing from one shop for Ludwig to find him in another, flirting at young girls at any possible moment and playing hop-scotch with some school-children.

He was alive like he had no care in the world. No sadness or even a hint of self-insecurity. He was loose, free. When they would wander into art shops, he would crook his head at particular paintings, or when a musician was on the street, Feliciano sang along (although he mostly didn't know the words). Ludwig would tread behind, and watch him glow with animation.

"Oh, Ludwig!" Feliciano shouted. Ludwig stopped looking at a store window and looked over. There was a small open cafe with a dancefloor, many young couples and little children were dancing to the soothing and upbeat music. He took his hand tightly. "We have to go dancing!" 

_"W-Was?_" Ludwig looked over. Feliciano's grin stretched in excitement and he eagerly was pulling at his hand to follow him. "I don't know how to-!"

"Oh come on, you can't let me have all the fun!" The Italian shouted greatly, leading the German into the square dancefloor. Small circular tables surrounded the dancefloor while duos danced back and forth, lost in their world of music.

Nobody paid them any mind, as they suddenly entered. Ludwig almost fell when he was done being dragged. Feliciano immediately faced towards him, practically bursting with enthusiasm.

"So, first, I'll put my hand here." Feliciano put his hand to rest on Ludwig's shoulder comfortably. Ludwig blinked in utter surprise and confusion. "Then you put your hand here-"

He grasped his Ludwig's left hand, bringing it to his waist. Ludwig thought he was going to combust. Feliciano saw nothing wrong.

"Then we hold hands, like this.." Feliciano put their hands together near their faces, and Ludwig could no longer choke back words. 

"Feliciano, don't you think this is a little inappropriate?" He stuttered out. Some people were staring at them, but he didn't seem to notice. Feliciano raised an eyebrow. 

"It's only me and you, Luddy. Everyone else is having a fun time, we can too." 

Before Ludwig could debate that, Feliciano was already moving, and Ludwig couldn't stop his feet. Ludwig stumbled, his feet seemingly stepping on Feliciano every slight movement, but Feliciano only laughed and gave Ludwig a reassuring smile.

Ludwig watched the young man dance with confidence, even if Ludwig was slowing him down a little. Watching Feliciano laugh with pure exhilaration made his stomach flip. They gained the same pace as everyone else who was dancing, and soon Ludwig stopped stepping on his shoes. 

The energy was almost intoxicating. They were twirling, and Feliciano's tight hold persuaded him of everything right in the world. Ludwig couldn't hold back his laughter as the whole world beyond them faded into nothing but obscurity, the only thing in his sights was the person he would never think to be doing this with. But it felt good to laugh, then it felt good to see Feliciano laughing at his laughing. Feliciano's eyes sparkled as daylight flashed in his hazel hues. The music seemed to be getting faster and more people joined in at the sight of the young man whirling around themselves. It was euphoric like pure joy ran through every inch of Ludwig, and all he could see was Feliciano. 

The dancefloor was crowded with many young couples and women talking. A shove and Ludwig was pushed forward towards his dancing partner. He suddenly felt the heat of Feliciano's body on his chest, swiftly glancing down to see Feliciano's whole face and chest leaning on him. But they didn't move. Neither of them did. Feliciano only gazed up at Ludwig with a look he had never seen before, still panting from dancing and laughing. Ludwig couldn't help but stare back, his smile slowly fading into an unreadable expression. Music was playing still, people walked around them, but they weren't there. It was only the sun on Feliciano's face and the soft weight on Ludwig's chest, his hand grasping on to the Germans more tightly than before. 

This was right. It was more than right.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" A man said behind them, "I didn't mean to bump into you!"

Feliciano looked around Ludwig. "Its alright, Friend!" 

Feliciano turned back to Ludwig and looked down at his hands which were resting on his chest. Ludwig could feel the warmth from his palms through his shirt. He looked at Feliciano, his face seemingly looking at his hands, with an expression of calm and aware. Feliciano slowly removed them, biting his lower lip.

Suddenly, Ludwig's hand stretched out and encompassed the Italians falling hands. He brought them back to his chest, his palms laying on top of the others. He brought his eyes to meet the others, the look of surprise and acceptance. The world moved slowly, the air changed and they suddenly didn't need oxygen. It was like the touch of his skin was all he needed to fulfill his life. Feliciano couldn't be more right. They two weren't different, not here. His name was Feliciano Vargas, and He was Ludwig Beilschmidt. Even that didn't matter. They were two people, two beings, two souls standing on solid ground but the mind is somewhere else. He didn't know why this felt different, or why the man in front of him eyes matched the ones in the town square, or how the bow-string was pulled so tight in his chest, seconds away from snapping and releasing every deep and hidden desire of his curious heart. This man in front of him didn't pull away his delicate hands, nor did he run away. They stood in absolute comfortable loud-silence and gazed at each other. The evening could have come and the moonshine could have glowed above them, hours could pass and they knew they could sustain themselves right there, on the dancefloor. It was already profound, it was strong and vibrant. He opened his mouth to speak but found no words to say. He was lost in a daydream.

Ludwig blinked, and let go slowly of Feliciano's hands once he discovered what he had done. Feliciano looked down at his fingers.

"Feliciano, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do that." He uttered quickly. In a lively instant, Feliciano lifted his head, a slight flush gracing his tan cheeks.

"Don't apologize, Ludwig." He spoke calmly, and even over loud music could Ludwig hear every syllable. "Don't apologize for daydreaming, Ludwig. Dreams are our revelations because they are our visions of what we want. And we might not understand our dreams, and that's okay. But if you want it, you know why, and you cant forget why. So don't. Don't stop dreaming, Luddy, or you'll never be happy."

And with that, Feliciano's smile returned. "Let's go. I saw a nice store a little while ago. We can go there next." And again, Ludwig was being promptly escorted from the dancefloor to the sidewalk, where hed be dragged next. But his face was graced with the biggest smile as he was idly brought here and there around the city blocks. 

He had many dreams. Finishing this war. Promptly seeing his brother, caring for his grandfather, get a job afterward, study somewhere in a stateful study. He had many dreams. He wanted that. He wanted it because it was stable. Because everyone else wanted that.

But, he wanted Feliciano's touch again. He wanted to hear the sweet hymns of his throat, the chorus of his mouth, the bass of his breath. The feel of his skin, the warmth of his embrace. He wanted to take him all in, and he didn't know how or why. He didn't. He knew it made his chest heavy with emotion, a tight bowstring constantly being tightened. Well, he supposed that he knew that one thing;

The bowstring would only get tighter, and he was afraid of it. Not because it of its heaviness, but because it wouldn't take another tightening. It was going to snap. And Ludwig would be undone. From what, he didn't understand. But that was okay. Feliciano made it okay to not understand, no. And yet, he trusted him. Reliably and completely. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. Sorry for litterally being gone for a month. This whole Coronavirus stuff is messing up my school and work, so it was hard to write. I am back though! 
> 
> Ludwig is confused. Obviously. But his eyes are going to be opened real soon. 
> 
> I know this chapter is a bit short, but the next chapter will conclude what happens later in the evening and nighttime. Didnt want to overwhelm ya. Thank you so much for reading! Love yall to bits!  
-Amercaii


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